Tale of the Bloody Barber
by Psychic Creed
Summary: A year after Johanna leaves London she's still haunted by the memory of the murderous Sweeny Todd. And twelve years later, her daughter Olivia runs away to London where she meets a strange man who wants to teach her the way of the barber...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The dream was back again. It had been a solid year since she started having this dream, and it still wouldn't stop returning to pay a visit. It would always start off innocently enough; there she would stand in the barber parlor waiting for her sailor to come back and whisk her away. She would walk around, looking at random objects. The walls, the furniture, the water pitcher, but what always caught her eye was a small duel-picture frame with a woman and baby inside. She would look at it vaguely wondering who they were, and then the sounds would start. The yelling, the spitting and sputtering, the gears grinding, and finally, a sickening thud. She would always try to move away from the sound. She would urge herself to move, but no matter how she tried, she would be frozen in the same place she was when it started. Then, almost immediately, _his_ face would appear before her, drenched in blood with the same murderous gleam in his dark eyes. Then, just as quickly as he had shown up, he would grab her by the throat and force her back into his barber's chair. Then, he would raise a glinting silver razor toward the ceiling and bring it slashing quickly down toward her-

"Johanna! Johanna, calm down!" said a voice near her. She was sitting upright in bed, a cold sweat covering her brow, and her gasping for air. She jumped when she felt hands clasping her shoulders. She looked up and saw Anthony staring back at her, a concerned look on his face. "Oh, Anthony," she gasped, her voice breaking as tears began to sting her eyes, "it was that dream again! That awful, awful dream!" Anthony wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, gently stroking her long yellow hair as she cried on his shoulder. "There now, Johanna… there now…" he cooed in her ear. After a while, she stopped crying and he released her, and looked into her eyes, a small smile playing on his face.

"Thank you, Anthony," Johanna whispered, "I really am sorry for this…"

"Not at all, my love," Anthony said earnestly. He looked down at her swollen belly, "do you- I--I mean, does the baby-?"

"No, no, the baby's fine," she said, smiling. She placed a delicate hand on her stomach and started rubbing it affectionately. "Anthony, are you sure we had to come all the way back to London for the birth? You know I don't like being here…."

Anthony nodded. He really did know she didn't have much desire to be back in London. So much had happened to her there, and he had felt wrong bringing her back. "I know, darling…" he said, placing his hand on hers. "But there were no adequate midwives back home… I don't want to have anything to happen to this baby…"

"Nor do I," Johanna said, "so I suppose I can see your reasoning… But…"

"I know, Johanna- I know…" He said, giving her another hug. Suddenly, he felt his wife tense up. His eyes grew wide, and he pulled away to see his wife's face contorted into a shocked and slightly pained expression. "A-Anthony! The baby…! It's… it's…coming!" She breathed. Anthony felt his heart skip a beat. He nodded fervently, and rushed to grab his coat and shoes. "R-Right! I'll fetch the midwife! D-Don't move around, I'll be right back!"

"Alright, Dearie, just a few more good pushes," the midwife, Mrs. Jenkins instructed. "That's it.. Just a little more…!"

Johanna grasped Anthony's hand firmly. Anthony sat beside her, whispering to her, "Just a bit more, Johanna… just keep breathing… just a little longer…" Johanna screamed out, and suddenly, the sound of a child's cry could be heard. "Ahh… Missus Johanna…" Mrs. Jenkins said happily as she wiped the newborn clean and cut the umbilical cord, "you got yourself a right beautiful daughter…" She then wrapped the baby in a clean cloth and handed it to Johanna. Tears of joy streamed down her face as she reached out for her daughter. "Oh, Anthony!" she whispered, "she _is_ beautiful…!" Anthony moved quickly to see his child. A look of wonder filled his eyes- this was _his child; the feeling was overwhelming. He reached out and lifted one of the baby's tiny hands with his index finger. He laughed a little when the hand didn't fully encompass the tip. Then he looked into Johanna's eyes, and she looked back. _

"_So, what's she going to be named?" Mrs. Jenkins asked the young couple. _

"_Olivia…" Johanna said through a large smile. "Olivia Grace…." _


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Oh mother, please!" Olivia whined, "please, please, please, please?"

"Olivia…" Johanna said tightly, getting a little more than irritated with her daughter, "We have been over this almost a thousand times-- no!"

"But mother!" Olivia huffed, stomping a foot on the floor and glaring at her mother, arms crossed over her chest. "It's _my_ birthday, isn't it?!"

"Yes…" Johanna said, rubbing her brow, trying to remain calm, "but you know I really don't revel in the idea of going anywhere near there…"

"Your mother is right, Olivia," Anthony interjected from behind his book, "and I must say, this isn't exactly the best request for a gift."

"And why isn't it?" Olivia asked her father, "I have never once asked for _anything_ for my birthday! Never! This is the one wish I've had since I was six!"

Johanna nodded. It was true that Olivia never asked for anything; she was always an extremely selfless girl- except when it came to this. It had been almost twelve years since Johanna and Anthony welcomed their beautiful daughter into the world, and every second had been a treasure. Anthony had provided their family with a beautiful, quaint country home, as well as a steady job as a merchant. However, this one plea from Olivia never ceased to cause a riff between everyone in the household. When Olivia was six, Anthony completed his last endeavor as a sailor and had returned home to the small town of Plainswright from his travels to be with his wife and young daughter.

"Olivia dear, Why is it you want to go to London so badly? There are plenty of other places we could sail to! Take Paris for example! Or Dublin! We would even consider going to America for you! So why do you want to see London so badly…?" Olivia looked at her father with her large, pale eyes. Then the slowly fell to the ground. "I…. I don't know…" Olivia said quietly. "I've never really thought about why I want to go so badly… I just do…!"

"Olivia, do you have any idea of who dangerous London is? Or how the people in that city behave and think? That city is so much larger than Plainswright is!" Johanna said.

"But mother," Olivia pleaded, "aren't _you_ from London? And I wouldn't be alone- you and daddy will be with me! And I won't stray from you or--"

"Enough Olivia!" Johanna yelled. Her daughter jumped a little at the sound of her mother's raised voice. Johanna narrowed her eyes at her daughter. "Enough…" she said through clenched teeth. "I've told you before, and I'm going to tell you again… _there is _no_ place like London…_No where in the world… and I do _not_ want you there…! Do you understand?!" Olivia looked at her mother and tears started to well up in her eyes. "Y-yes mother…" "Go to your room Olivia- I will deal with you later," her mother said, moving over to a chair to sit, still rubbing her forehead.

Olivia laid on the end of her bed and tried to fight back her tears. _Why?_ she thought, _Why is London so horrible? People in Plainswright travel there all the time and all of them have come back safe and sound! Why is my mother so afraid?_ Olivia sat up and looked out her window. The sun was setting and dusk was setting in. The leaf-less trees of November made patterns reaching toward the sky, and the moon that was rising coated the landscape with a pale glow. _I wonder…_ Olivia thought, _Can people in London see the same moon and sky as I can…?_

_Olivia…_ a voice called. She spun around to see who was in the room with her, yet she was completely alone. She had definitely heard someone calling her; yet it had been so quiet and distant… almost a whisper. _Olivia…_ it called again, _Go to your other window, Olivia…_ Looking around for the source, she slowly made her way over to her window which faced the main street of Plainswright. She saw a local carpenter loading slabs of wood into a horse drawn cart. His wife came out of her house and began talking to him. "Martin, when are you going to be back?"

"Well, probably within the week. I only have to drop this wood off for some bloke in London- 'pparently he wants to fix up some tavern or something… I dunno, but I'm getting' paid extra to bring it out so far, so I can't afford to turn down his offer." Olivia felt a ping of sadness and anger _He's lucky… it's easy enough for him to get out there and back…_

"When will you be leaving dear?" His wife asked, "You're not going to be leaving tonight, are you?"

"Of course not! It's too late now; the sun's almost completely gone. I'll be setting off first thing in the morning. 'Sides, I have more wood to load up…"

"Are you sure you can handle all of that lifting?" His wife asked, "Wouldn't it be easier to ask a neighborhood boy to help you out?"

"Well, I'm hoping one will show up tomorrow morning- I'm even willin' to pay the first kid to volunteer! But if they don't show up by tomorrow morning, I'll be loadin' up and headin' out alone."

Olivia's eyes widened. How perfect! She could go to London with the carpenter! _Wait… _She thought, _He's looking for a boy to help him… he'll never accept a girl…_ As her mind drifted, she heard footsteps coming toward her room. Quickly, she jumped into bed and pretended to be asleep. She heard the door open, and then her father sigh. "Poor girl…" Anthony said, "that's all she's wanted for so long…" "I know," her mother whispered to him. "But I…I just can't let her go back there, Anthony… I _can't…_!" "I know, Love, I know…" Anthony whispered back. "Hopefully this will all be forgotten by morning- let's let her just rest for now…" Slowly, the door closed and when the sounds of footsteps could no longer be heard, she rose from her bed. During the time her mother and father talked, she mulled over in her head a way to join the carpenter on his journey to London.

She rushed to her closet and pulled out some of her older, more worn out dresses; one dark brown, one a grayish blue, and the other a pale cream color. She gathered the clothes and carried them to her small vanity that stood beside the window faceing the moon and trees. Olivia opened one of the vanity's drawers and pulled out a small bundle of cloth, string, needles and a pair of scissors. She then lit a candle and smiled to herself. _I'm going to need that light… _She thought _I've got some work to do. _

Through most of the night Olivia toiled over her old clothes; cutting, sewing and stitching pieces of this and that together to make a slap-dash boy's outfit. When she was finally done she stood before the small mirror hanging above the vanity. The outfit was as close to authentic as it was going to get- she fashioned a pair of stockings, breeches, a white shirt and blue vest. "Perfect!" She whispered to herself. _Only one thing left to do…_ she thought. She grabbed her scissors and grabbed a handful of her dark blonde hair. _Do it…_ the whisper said. _Do it Olivia- it's the only way. _Olivia nodded to the unseen speaker, and closed her eyes as she cut through her hair. After a while, she looked at herself in the mirror. She was amazed- she really did look like a boy now.

_That's the way, Pet…_ the voice said, _Your almost there… _

"Your right…." she said to no one, "Whoever you are… your right… I _am almost there…!" _


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The sun was barely peeking through the clouds, creating a golden sunrise over the town of Plainswright. Martin Steward the local carpenter put on a coat and scarf to go out and face the cold, long drive to London. As he settled his cap on his head, there was a quick, sharp rap at the door. Slightly suprised by having a visitor this early in the morning. He opened the door and there stood a young boy, no older than probably twelve. The boy was shivering from the cold, and it was no wonder; he was wearing only a shirt and some breeches, which were not only out of date, but out of season. He had longer hair for a boy, but nothing he hadn't seen before. Before he could open his mouth, the boy started to speak through clenched teeth, "H-h-ello to you s-sir. I w-was wondering if I-- I may be a-able to--"

"Come on inside, lad," Martin said kindly- "You'll freeze to death if you don't get near some heat." The boy was only too happy to oblige, and quickly hurried inside. Mr. Steward gestured for the boy to have a seat in front of the fire, and he did, muttering "Thank you" as he sat. "Now lad," Mr. Steward said, "What is it you were trying to say?"

"Oh," the boy said, "I heard talk around town that you needed some help loading up wood for a trip your makeing to London, and I would only be too happy to help you out."

"Well, that's right nice of you, son," Mr. Steward said. "But I can't let you help me in those clothes; you'll die of the cold!"

"Martin?" A voice called from upstairs, "Martin, who is that down there with you?"

"Oh, a neighborhood boy, Love," Mr. Steward called back, "He was asking if he could help me load up the wood for my trip to the city."

The sound of footsteps started to decend from upstairs, and soon Mr. Steward's wife joined her husband and the boy. "Oh, what a sweet child..." she said with a smile.

"That he is, but I can't let him work for me," Mr. Steward said.

"And why not? He looks able enough for the job," Mrs. Steward argued.

"Yea, but look at what he's wearing! He'll catch his death in this cold!"

Mrs. Steward looked at the boy and a frown streched across her face. "Well, that may be... You don't seem to be dressed for this kind of weather, Dear..."

_No, please! I have to work for you- to get to London!_ Olivia's mind screamed. "Please sir," she begged, trying her hardest to sound convincing, "I will be fine in the cold."

"Common, lad," Mr. Steward said with a small chuckle. "You were shivering like mad out there on my front door step!"

"Where did you even get clothes like that, dear?" Mrs. Steward asked, "You look like you just walked out of a fairy tale!"

It was true- Olivia had gotten her idea for her outfit by reading through some old story books her father had given her over the years about travelers and princes and such- that was the first idea that had come to her mind. "Actually, ma'am, I thought this was normal..."

"Heaven's no! Where have you been, dear?"

"Look," Mr. Steward broke in, "I would like some help with the wood, so--"

"Can't you just run home really fast and change clothes there?" Mrs. Steward continued on Olivia. "I-I--" Olivia stammered. _Great, what am I going to say now?!_ She thought in a panic.

"Loreli!" Mr. Steward snapped, "don't interrupt me when I'm talking to the boy!"

_Oh thank God..._ Olivia thought.

"Anyway, as I was saying, I could just let you use some of my son's old clothes. He left to be a preist last year, and never came back to pack up the rest of his belongings. Not that he needs them now, but that's not the point. Anyway, I could have my wife here stitch them up so they fit you a little better and I could loan you an old coat and hat to keep you warm, how does that sound?"

Olivia's face lit up, "That sounds wonderful, sir! Thank you so much!"

"No trouble at all, son. Loreli, you wouldn't mind doing that for the boy, would you?" Mr. Steward asked.

"No, I suppose not... It won't really that all that long... Matthew was always a bit short." Mrs. Stewart said quietly to no one in particular.

After about half an hour, Mrs. Stewart returned with Olivia's new clothes- a pair of dark pants, a dark brown coat, and another plain white button up shirt. "You may as well put this on over the one your already wearing, darling," she said to Olivia as she handed over the shirt, "another shirt will do you good in this cold. You can go get changed in that room over there, second door on the right." Olivia gladly accepted the clothes and moved quickly to the new room. Before she undressed, she peeked out the room's window. The sky was just starting to lighten up, and the lights in her house were still out. _Thank goodness..._ She thought. _I can still make this work..._

"There, now that's better, lad!" Mr. Stewart said with a smile when Olivia came out in her new clothes. "Now, daylight's a burning- let's get loading so I can get on to London!"

Olivia had never had to do any really straining labor before, so loading wood on Mr. Stewart's cart was a new experience in it's own. Luckally none of the wood was very heavy, so she was able to manage. After almost an hour of hauling boards and planks back and forth, she and Mr. Stewart finished. "Alright, lad! That should do it!" "Thank you so much for letting me work with you, Mr. Stewart," Olivia breathed. "Now, how much should I pay ya? Two pounds should be more than enough-"

"Uh, Sir, I don't need to be paid," Olivia said earnestly, "I just... I need a way to London, sir."

"London? A young lad like yourself? Whatever for?"

Olivia's brain stirred- she hadn't thought of an answer for this, either. _Oh, I'm sunk, now..._ she thought sadly.

_Not quite, Love, _the mysterious voice said in her mind. _Just trust me- repeate everything I say..._

_Alright,_ Olivia replied in her mind, _Its not like I have much of a choice in the matter..._

_Now,_ the voice instructed, _say, "Well sir, I came up to Plainswright for work-"_

"Well sir," Olivia mimicked, "I can up to Plainswright for work."

_My family really lives in London, and I've just had no way to return._

"My family really lives in London, and I've just had no way to return."

_So if you wouldn't mind sir, may I please get a ride there with you? _

"So if you wouldn't mind sir, may I please get a ride there with you?" Olivia finished perfectly.

"Well, I don't see why not, lad. Let's you and me grab a couple of blankets from the misses so we don't freeze on the way up there, eh?"

_Finally... I'm going to see London...!_ Olivia thought as her heart swelled with excitement. But her excited feeling was breif- out of the corner of her eye she saw light slowly come to life in the windows of her home. _No...! No! Not yet! Don't wake up yet!!_ Her mind screamed. Luckally, Mr. Stewart came out of his house with two blankets and handed one to Olivia. "Well, let's get on out of here!" Mr. Stewart said happily. "Y-yes, lets!" Olivia said, trying to keep her cool. She and Mr. Stewart climbed upon the cart and Mr. Stewart snapped the reins.

Just as the horses started to move forward, Olivia peered over her shoulder. She saw a light come to light in her room. Then, as the cart got out of earshot, she saw her father run out of the house screaming something she couldn't hear.

"By the way, lad," Mr. Stewart said, calling her back to the present, "what's your name, anyway?"

"It's Oli-" she said and paused for a second, "Oliver. My name is Oliver."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The smell of sea and smog filled Olivia's nostrals. Smoke from people's chimneys hung in the air, just barely visible under the grey blanket of clouds that spread as far as the eye could see. Warm lights from people's houses shone like small, welcoming fireflies.

_This is it..._ She thought to herself, _Finally, London..._

"Well, is there anywhere in general you want me to let you off, Oliver?" Mr. Steward asked.

"Huh?" Olivia asked snapping back into reality, "Oh-- no sir. My home is actually not that far from here; I can get off here, in fact- I would like to walk around my neighborhood before I go home to suprise my mother."

"That sounds like a fine idea, lad," Mr. Steward said with a smile. He pulled the reins to stop his horse from touring further. Olivia hopped down from the carriage and turned to Mr. Steward. "Thank you so much for the ride, Mr. Steward! I don't know how to repay you..."

"Oh, don't fret, lad," Mr. Steward said with a warm smile. "'Do unto others' is what I always say. Anway, I must be off. Take care of yourself!" With a small wave and a snap of his reins, Mr. Steward followed his road further into the city.

Olivia looked around and took in her surroundings. She was surrounded by different tall grey buildings, all with lights glowing in the windows and rooms. She saw signs for a tailor and a butcher's shop; the rest must have been houses of some sort. But that didn't matter. What did matter was she was here and the city was open to her to do as she pleased. She walked around aimlessly for a long while looking at all the different buildings and people, as well as savoring the smells of the different foods being prepaired and the flowers being sold by beggar ladies. After a while however, the people crowding the streets started to grow scarce, and the air began to grow more cold. Olivia shivered as a chill ran down her spine and started puffing out steam. She looked around again to see where she was and where she should go for the night.

_Wonderful..._ Olivia thought bitterly, _I never thought about what I should do for shelter when I got here... What am I gonna do now...?_

_Olivia- listen to me_, said the same myserious voice that had spoken to her before. _Follow what I say and I can find you a place to stay..._

"How can I trust you? I don't even know who or what you are!" Olivia whispered aloud.

_I haven't lead you astray yet, have I...? _

"Well, no... But-- "

_Olivia- do you see that alley way over there...? _

"Which alley way? There are so man-" Before she could finish what she was saying, her head started to turn on it's own toward an alley way on her left. More chills ran down her spine and she gasped at the un-voluntary motion of her head.

That_ alley... Now... Go down there... _

Olivia hesitated. Who was this person in her head? And what exactly just happened with her head-turning? But before she could further delve into thought, white snow started to fall from the sky. _This is no time to think,_ she thought, _I just have to move..._ Slowly, she made her way down the darkening alley. As she walked, her eyes started to pick up on the movement in the alley. There were rats running close to the walls of buildings, and in the shadow of the alley, she could make out a few figures of people slumped over as if they were asleep. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Olivia reached the end of the alley. Giving a sigh of relief, she started to move forward onto the street. But before she could, she felt a strong hand clamp around her arm and drag her back into the alley. Before she could react, she was thrown against a wall. A man with a grizzly beard and horribly pale skin was staring down at her. His sunken eyes had no life- no light to them; save for a slight glassy shine. The glassy shine that is found in the eyes of mad men.

"Hey there little boy... Do you have any bourbon...?" The old man asked, his breath hot and foul in Olivia's face. She grimaced at the smell. "N-no," she managed to choke.

"Well, your quite the daper little boy, aren't you...? How about you give me all the money you have, so I can get some bourbon for myself...?"

Olivia shook her head, getting more and more frightened by the second. "I-I don't have any money, sir...!"

He turned his head like a confused puppy. A crazy confused puppy. "Oh... Oh I think you have money... And so does my little friend... Don't you think so, Paul...?" When he said that, he pulled a knife out of his pocket. The blade was knicked and almost rusted, but it still looked like it could peirce someone's heart if thrusted hard enough. And Olivia had always heard her father and mother say never to disrequard the strength of the mad, and Olivia had a feeling that this man was mad enough to do some damage with "Paul."

"Now...." he continued, "give me all you got... Unless you wanna give me some other kind of goods..." he said, eyeing Olivia up and down. _Oh God..._ Olivia thought, on the verge of tears, _God, please help me... Please! Somebody!_

Suddenly, Olivia felt her body go stiff. _Don't fight, Olivia,_ the voice said again, _Let me help you..._

"A--Alright..." Olivia said as a frightened tear slid down her cold cheek.

"What was that, boy?" The old man said, a crazy smile on his face, "Have you decided to give me a little something extr-UMPH!"

Olivia's hand had curled into a fist and shot into the old man's gut. Then, she lashed out and kicked him in the head when he was still on his knees. Olivia started to tremble- she wasn't the one fighting. Just like what had happened earlier, her body was just moving to someone else's accord. _What's going on?!" _She thought wildly, _What am I doing?! What are _you_ doing?!_ She thought toward the strange voice.

As if in response, her body bent down and picked up Paul. Whoever was controling her looked at the knife in disgust. "This is a poor excuse of a blade... Much like you are a poor excuse of a human...." She said in a deeper, richer and darker voice that didn't belong to her. Slowly, she moved toward the old man who was now lying on the ground in pain and shock.

_What are you doing?!_ Olivia thought. She had no control over her body, but she could see the whole scene as if she were along for the ride. _Why am I not running?! Why am I moving back to him?! Stop this! STOP!_

"This pathetic man, this fine example of _vermin_ doesn't deserve to live any longer, Olivia dear..." Said the dark voice that came out of her mouth, "So I'm fixing the problem..."

"Who... who's Olivia...?" The old man groaned. He was bleeding from the mouth and was trying to sit up. Olivia's fist shot out again and knocked him to the ground again. Olivia looked on in horror. She could _never_ muster up the strength of a blow that strong.... Where was all of this coming from?! And what happend next scared Olivia more than anything she had witnessed before in her lifetime. Slowly, she saw her hand reach out and lift up the old man's scruffy, hagard head by his hair. She felt a wicked smile parting her lips, and she started to draw back Paul, focusing on the old man's exposed neck...

_No... No! NO!!!_ Olivia's mind screamed. Everything she had inside of her was pushing forward, trying to stop whoever-it-was from commiting this aweful act. Still, her hand moved backward, getting ready to strike. Then she felt it release- moving with lightning speed toward the man's throat.

"I SAID NO!" Olivia's normal voice shouted out. She quickly realized she had just heard her voice. Next she realized how heavy the old man's head was in her left hand. She quickly looked at him and saw that the blade had stopped and was just barely touching his skin- not a scratch on his sickly skin. Olivia then jumped back in horror, letting the man fall back down with a groan of pain. Olivia looked in her trembling right hand where she was gripping Paul- her nails had dug into her palm, a small trickle of blood coming down the side of her hand. "I... I stopped it..." she said to herself. Then she heard some scuffling sounds. She looked ahead of her and saw that the old man was starting to stand. "You... You give me back Paul, you weird little bastard..." he growled, slowly moving toward her. Quickly she reacted on her own. She threw Paul as hard as she could toward the wall on her right. Once Paul connected with the hard stone structure, it's rusted blade snapped in two and fell to the ground; useless.

"Nooooo!" The old man howled, "Paul! Look what you did to Paul! You little bastaaarrrddd!!!" He dove for Olivia, who instinctivly jumped back. She then turned and began to run as fast as she could through the streets. Behind her she heard the old man running behind her, and catching up. Olivia pushed herself to go faster, but no matter what she did, he was always right behind her. The sound of him running began to get louder and louder. She could feel the heat of his fingers reaching out for the back of her neck. "I've got you now!" He shouted triumphantly, "I've got you, you little bast-OOF!"

Olivia ran a few more steps and turned to see what happened. The old man was once again lying on the street. But this time he was holding his head in pain. And lying beside him was an... apple...?

"That's what you get, you nasty old codger," a boy's voice said. Olivia looked to her left and saw a boy, probably around 17 standing there with another apple in hand. Slowly he swaggered over to where Olivia stood and looked down at the old man on the ground who was now glaring at him. "Why did you do that?!" The old man growled as he tried to stand up, "I was getting what I owed from that brat! He broke Paul! The kid _owes_ me!"

"The hell he did," the older boy spat. "I've seen you around here- you're a crazy old drunk who talked to his pathetic excuse of a knife. You make me sick... Get the hell outta here before I call in the authorities."

"Oh yeah...?" The old man said, finally reaching his feet, "Why don't you and I just settle this like men and fight it out!"

"I don't think you want to do that, old man..." The older boy said, "Besides... I've already killed one man in my life- I don't want to have to kill you, too."

The old man laughed, "You? Killed a man? Prove it!"

Olivia watched as a dark look passed over the older boy's face. He moved closer to the old man. He was much taller than the old man, and looked much stronger. "Prove it, you say...?" He said quietly, ice in his voice, "I really don't think you want me to do that..."

Slowly, Olivia saw the look on the old man's face change from crazed anger, to fear. "Calm down, son.." he said, "Calm down now... I didn't mean harm... Calm down, son..." He backed away, and the older boy smiled. He then turned and moved back to stand by Olivia. "You alright?" He asked her, smiling warmly at her. "Y-yes," she said, feeling heat rising to her cold cheeks, "thank you..." He smiled at her and then looked back at the old man who was now starting to walk away.

"Oye! Codger! One more thing...." he called out the the old man. He turned and glared at him, "What?!"

"You shouldn't pick on little girls... People get killed over that, don't you know..."

"Girls?! What the hell are you talking about?!" the old man yelled back, totally suprised.

Olivia gasped as she felt her hat being lifted off of her head. She could then feel the sensation of something hitting her back. _Hair?!_ She grapped a handful of her hair in disbelefe; it was just as long as it was when she cut it at her house. _But... how...?!_ she thought in panic.

"See?" The older boy continued, "A girl. Now, remember what I said and crawl back to your alley like the rat you are." With that, he laid a hand on Olivia's shoulder and steered her away with him, but not before he bent over and picked a bag of apples that was sitting a little ways away from him.

"How...." Olivia stammered, "My hair was..."

The older boy just smiled as he walked, his hand still on her shoulder. "Well, I saw a little strand hanging out from under your cap. That was my first hint. Besides, your also too pretty to be a boy." Olivia felt heat rush to her cheeks again. _But my hair was short...! I cut it myself! I saw it fall to the floor!_ She thought, _How did it grow back...?!_

"So, where do you live? I could escort you home just in case you run into any more low lives," he said. He seemed like a genuinly nice boy. Had he just lied about the whole killing-a-man thing...? Then again, who was she to judge? She almost killed a man today...

"Um... well... I don't live anywhere..." Olivia said, looking at the ground. "I ran away from home to come to London, and I never even considered..." A lump had started to form in her throat that made it impossible to talk. The older boy looked down at her in pity. He was quite for a little while, and then smiled and said, "Well, I actually know a place where you can stay... And as a matter of fact, I'm on my way there now!"

Olivia looked at him in suprise. "Your... helping me..? Again?"

He smiled at her and Olivia felt her heart skip a beat. "Of course. I know what it's like not having anywhere to go... And it's not good for girls to stay on the streets. Especially when they almost got killed. Don't worry, I'll take care of you." Olivia smiled at him and for the first time, got a good look at him. He was tall- much taller than her. He was thin, but she could see he also looked physically strong, as well as having a strong and hansome face. He had a nice tan complection, which was much different from her paleness. He also had dark messy hair and eyes that looked black, but as he looked down at her as she gazed at him, she could see that they were actually a rich, cocoa brown.

"You alright?" He asked her. "Um... yes, yes, I'm fine" she said with a weak smile. "Good. We're almost there..."

Soon they made there way to a building with a dark wooden door, right on the corner of St. Micheal's street. The boy smiled as they drew closer. "This is it," he said. He then reached for her hand and pulled her with him, "Common now, it's getting colder by the second!" He pulled her up to the door with him and he knocked three times. Soon, it opened and Olivia saw an old, friendly looking woman standing in the doorway. "Oh! Your back! I was begining to think you forgot where I lived. Did you bring the apples?"

The boy smiled and handed the sack over to her. "Here you go, ma'am. 2 pounds of apples, like you requested."

The woman lifted the bag up and down, as if weighing it. Then her face grew sour and said, "This isn't two pounds...!"

"Are you sure?" the boy asked, fakeing suprise.

"I have been delivering childern for almost 35 years," she said, "so I think I would know what 2 pounds would feel like!"

"Your right... I had to sacrifice one in order to help someone out of a pinch today..."

"Oh really? Who would that be?" The boy then looked over at Olivia, who suddenly felt really awkward. "Oh! Well hello there, child! You look pale as death!" She then turned back to the boy and asked, "Is she alright?"

"She had a run in with a dangerous character and I helped her," he explained casually.

"Oh, how sweet of you! So deary," she said, turning back to Olivia, "Where is it you live?"

"That's what I brought her here for," the boy contined, "She has no where to go, and it wouldn't be right to leave her on the streets again, what with what just happened to her and the snow and whatnot... So, do you think you could let her stay with you for a while...? You always did help me out when I was in need..."

The old woman nodded, "I don't see a problem with it... Well dear, I'm Mrs. Jenkins, and you are...?"

"Oh, I'm Olivia..."

"Olivia... What a pretty name..." she said with a smile. "Well, if you don't mind I must be getting back inside- it's hard to bake an apple pie with no apples. Please, come right in and make yourself at home, deary... Oh! And here's your reward for fetching me those apples..." She said, reaching into her apron pockets and pulling out a peice of paper and handing to the boy. "It's my famous apple pie recipe... Use it well..."

"Yes ma'am... I will..." the boy said, his face aglow with happiness.

"Well, come inside, child! It's freezing out here!"

"Oh, yes ma'am..." Olivia said as she slowly followed Mrs. Jenkins inside. Before she passed the threshold she turned to the boy who was still on the front steps, snow lightly frosting his dark hair. "Thank you again..." she said, smiling shyly.

"Not at all," he said with another warm smile. "You take care now, alright? Don't go down anymore strange allies... G'night!" He said as he turned and started down the street.

"Uh... Wait!" Olivia called after him. He then turned and smiled at her. "Yes?"

"I never asked you..." Olivia said, "What is your name?"

He gave her another smile and she could feel her heart skip a beat. "My name?" He called to her, starting to walk backwards so he could still face her, "It's Toby."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4

The smell of sea and smog filled Olivia's nostrals. Smoke from people's chimneys hung in the air, just barely visible under the grey blanket of clouds that spread as far as the eye could see. Warm lights from people's houses shone like small, welcoming fireflies.

_This is it..._ She thought to herself, _Finally, London..._

"Well, is there anywhere in general you want me to let you off, Oliver?" Mr. Steward asked.

"Huh?" Olivia asked snapping back into reality, "Oh-- no sir. My home is actually not that far from here; I can get off here, in fact- I would like to walk around my neighborhood before I go home to suprise my mother."

"That sounds like a fine idea, lad," Mr. Steward said with a smile. He pulled the reins to stop his horse from touring further. Olivia hopped down from the carriage and turned to Mr. Steward. "Thank you so much for the ride, Mr. Steward! I don't know how to repay you..."

"Oh, don't fret, lad," Mr. Steward said with a warm smile. "'Do unto others' is what I always say. Anway, I must be off. Take care of yourself!" With a small wave and a snap of his reins, Mr. Steward followed his road further into the city.

Olivia looked around and took in her surroundings. She was surrounded by different tall grey buildings, all with lights glowing in the windows and rooms. She saw signs for a tailor and a butcher's shop; the rest must have been houses of some sort. But that didn't matter. What did matter was she was here and the city was open to her to do as she pleased. She walked around aimlessly for a long while looking at all the different buildings and people, as well as savoring the smells of the different foods being prepaired and the flowers being sold by beggar ladies. After a while however, the people crowding the streets started to grow scarce, and the air began to grow more cold. Olivia shivered as a chill ran down her spine and started puffing out steam. She looked around again to see where she was and where she should go for the night.

_Wonderful..._ Olivia thought bitterly, _I never thought about what I should do for shelter when I got here... What am I gonna do now...?_

_Olivia- listen to me_, said the same myserious voice that had spoken to her before. _Follow what I say and I can find you a place to stay..._

"How can I trust you? I don't even know who or what you are!" Olivia whispered aloud.

_I haven't lead you astray yet, have I...? _

"Well, no... But-- "

_Olivia- do you see that alley way over there...? _

"Which alley way? There are so man-" Before she could finish what she was saying, her head started to turn on it's own toward an alley way on her left. More chills ran down her spine and she gasped at the un-voluntary motion of her head.

That_ alley... Now... Go down there... _

Olivia hesitated. Who was this person in her head? And what exactly just happened with her head-turning? But before she could further delve into thought, white snow started to fall from the sky. _This is no time to think,_ she thought, _I just have to move..._ Slowly, she made her way down the darkening alley. As she walked, her eyes started to pick up on the movement in the alley. There were rats running close to the walls of buildings, and in the shadow of the alley, she could make out a few figures of people slumped over as if they were asleep. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Olivia reached the end of the alley. Giving a sigh of relief, she started to move forward onto the street. But before she could, she felt a strong hand clamp around her arm and drag her back into the alley. Before she could react, she was thrown against a wall. A man with a grizzly beard and horribly pale skin was staring down at her. His sunken eyes had no life- no light to them; save for a slight glassy shine. The glassy shine that is found in the eyes of mad men.

"Hey there little boy... Do you have any bourbon...?" The old man asked, his breath hot and foul in Olivia's face. She grimaced at the smell. "N-no," she managed to choke.

"Well, your quite the daper little boy, aren't you...? How about you give me all the money you have, so I can get some bourbon for myself...?"

Olivia shook her head, getting more and more frightened by the second. "I-I don't have any money, sir...!"

He turned his head like a confused puppy. A crazy confused puppy. "Oh... Oh I think you have money... And so does my little friend... Don't you think so, Paul...?" When he said that, he pulled a knife out of his pocket. The blade was knicked and almost rusted, but it still looked like it could peirce someone's heart if thrusted hard enough. And Olivia had always heard her father and mother say never to disrequard the strength of the mad, and Olivia had a feeling that this man was mad enough to do some damage with "Paul."

"Now...." he continued, "give me all you got... Unless you wanna give me some other kind of goods..." he said, eyeing Olivia up and down. _Oh God..._ Olivia thought, on the verge of tears, _God, please help me... Please! Somebody!_

Suddenly, Olivia felt her body go stiff. _Don't fight, Olivia,_ the voice said again, _Let me help you..._

"A--Alright..." Olivia said as a frightened tear slid down her cold cheek.

"What was that, boy?" The old man said, a crazy smile on his face, "Have you decided to give me a little something extr-UMPH!"

Olivia's hand had curled into a fist and shot into the old man's gut. Then, she lashed out and kicked him in the head when he was still on his knees. Olivia started to tremble- she wasn't the one fighting. Just like what had happened earlier, her body was just moving to someone else's accord. _What's going on?!" _She thought wildly, _What am I doing?! What are _you_ doing?!_ She thought toward the strange voice.

As if in response, her body bent down and picked up Paul. Whoever was controling her looked at the knife in disgust. "This is a poor excuse of a blade... Much like you are a poor excuse of a human...." She said in a deeper, richer and darker voice that didn't belong to her. Slowly, she moved toward the old man who was now lying on the ground in pain and shock.

_What are you doing?!_ Olivia thought. She had no control over her body, but she could see the whole scene as if she were along for the ride. _Why am I not running?! Why am I moving back to him?! Stop this! STOP!_

"This pathetic man, this fine example of _vermin_ doesn't deserve to live any longer, Olivia dear..." Said the dark voice that came out of her mouth, "So I'm fixing the problem..."

"Who... who's Olivia...?" The old man groaned. He was bleeding from the mouth and was trying to sit up. Olivia's fist shot out again and knocked him to the ground again. Olivia looked on in horror. She could _never_ muster up the strength of a blow that strong.... Where was all of this coming from?! And what happend next scared Olivia more than anything she had witnessed before in her lifetime. Slowly, she saw her hand reach out and lift up the old man's scruffy, hagard head by his hair. She felt a wicked smile parting her lips, and she started to draw back Paul, focusing on the old man's exposed neck...

_No... No! NO!!!_ Olivia's mind screamed. Everything she had inside of her was pushing forward, trying to stop whoever-it-was from commiting this aweful act. Still, her hand moved backward, getting ready to strike. Then she felt it release- moving with lightning speed toward the man's throat.

"I SAID NO!" Olivia's normal voice shouted out. She quickly realized she had just heard her voice. Next she realized how heavy the old man's head was in her left hand. She quickly looked at him and saw that the blade had stopped and was just barely touching his skin- not a scratch on his sickly skin. Olivia then jumped back in horror, letting the man fall back down with a groan of pain. Olivia looked in her trembling right hand where she was gripping Paul- her nails had dug into her palm, a small trickle of blood coming down the side of her hand. "I... I stopped it..." she said to herself. Then she heard some scuffling sounds. She looked ahead of her and saw that the old man was starting to stand. "You... You give me back Paul, you weird little bastard..." he growled, slowly moving toward her. Quickly she reacted on her own. She threw Paul as hard as she could toward the wall on her right. Once Paul connected with the hard stone structure, it's rusted blade snapped in two and fell to the ground; useless.

"Nooooo!" The old man howled, "Paul! Look what you did to Paul! You little bastaaarrrddd!!!" He dove for Olivia, who instinctivly jumped back. She then turned and began to run as fast as she could through the streets. Behind her she heard the old man running behind her, and catching up. Olivia pushed herself to go faster, but no matter what she did, he was always right behind her. The sound of him running began to get louder and louder. She could feel the heat of his fingers reaching out for the back of her neck. "I've got you now!" He shouted triumphantly, "I've got you, you little bast-OOF!"

Olivia ran a few more steps and turned to see what happened. The old man was once again lying on the street. But this time he was holding his head in pain. And lying beside him was an... apple...?

"That's what you get, you nasty old codger," a boy's voice said. Olivia looked to her left and saw a boy, probably around 17 standing there with another apple in hand. Slowly he swaggered over to where Olivia stood and looked down at the old man on the ground who was now glaring at him. "Why did you do that?!" The old man growled as he tried to stand up, "I was getting what I owed from that brat! He broke Paul! The kid _owes_ me!"

"The hell he did," the older boy spat. "I've seen you around here- you're a crazy old drunk who talked to his pathetic excuse of a knife. You make me sick... Get the hell outta here before I call in the authorities."

"Oh yeah...?" The old man said, finally reaching his feet, "Why don't you and I just settle this like men and fight it out!"

"I don't think you want to do that, old man..." The older boy said, "Besides... I've already killed one man in my life- I don't want to have to kill you, too."

The old man laughed, "You? Killed a man? Prove it!"

Olivia watched as a dark look passed over the older boy's face. He moved closer to the old man. He was much taller than the old man, and looked much stronger. "Prove it, you say...?" He said quietly, ice in his voice, "I really don't think you want me to do that..."

Slowly, Olivia saw the look on the old man's face change from crazed anger, to fear. "Calm down, son.." he said, "Calm down now... I didn't mean harm... Calm down, son..." He backed away, and the older boy smiled. He then turned and moved back to stand by Olivia. "You alright?" He asked her, smiling warmly at her. "Y-yes," she said, feeling heat rising to her cold cheeks, "thank you..." He smiled at her and then looked back at the old man who was now starting to walk away.

"Oye! Codger! One more thing...." he called out the the old man. He turned and glared at him, "What?!"

"You shouldn't pick on little girls... People get killed over that, don't you know..."

"Girls?! What the hell are you talking about?!" the old man yelled back, totally suprised.

Olivia gasped as she felt her hat being lifted off of her head. She could then feel the sensation of something hitting her back. _Hair?!_ She grapped a handful of her hair in disbelefe; it was just as long as it was when she cut it at her house. _But... how...?!_ she thought in panic.

"See?" The older boy continued, "A girl. Now, remember what I said and crawl back to your alley like the rat you are." With that, he laid a hand on Olivia's shoulder and steered her away with him, but not before he bent over and picked a bag of apples that was sitting a little ways away from him.

"How...." Olivia stammered, "My hair was..."

The older boy just smiled as he walked, his hand still on her shoulder. "Well, I saw a little strand hanging out from under your cap. That was my first hint. Besides, your also too pretty to be a boy." Olivia felt heat rush to her cheeks again. _But my hair was short...! I cut it myself! I saw it fall to the floor!_ She thought, _How did it grow back...?!_

"So, where do you live? I could escort you home just in case you run into any more low lives," he said. He seemed like a genuinly nice boy. Had he just lied about the whole killing-a-man thing...? Then again, who was she to judge? She almost killed a man today...

"Um... well... I don't live anywhere..." Olivia said, looking at the ground. "I ran away from home to come to London, and I never even considered..." A lump had started to form in her throat that made it impossible to talk. The older boy looked down at her in pity. He was quite for a little while, and then smiled and said, "Well, I actually know a place where you can stay... And as a matter of fact, I'm on my way there now!"

Olivia looked at him in suprise. "Your... helping me..? Again?"

He smiled at her and Olivia felt her heart skip a beat. "Of course. I know what it's like not having anywhere to go... And it's not good for girls to stay on the streets. Especially when they almost got killed. Don't worry, I'll take care of you." Olivia smiled at him and for the first time, got a good look at him. He was tall- much taller than her. He was thin, but she could see he also looked physically strong, as well as having a strong and hansome face. He had a nice tan complection, which was much different from her paleness. He also had dark messy hair and eyes that looked black, but as he looked down at her as she gazed at him, she could see that they were actually a rich, cocoa brown.

"You alright?" He asked her. "Um... yes, yes, I'm fine" she said with a weak smile. "Good. We're almost there..."

Soon they made there way to a building with a dark wooden door, right on the corner of St. Micheal's street. The boy smiled as they drew closer. "This is it," he said. He then reached for her hand and pulled her with him, "Common now, it's getting colder by the second!" He pulled her up to the door with him and he knocked three times. Soon, it opened and Olivia saw an old, friendly looking woman standing in the doorway. "Oh! Your back! I was begining to think you forgot where I lived. Did you bring the apples?"

The boy smiled and handed the sack over to her. "Here you go, ma'am. 2 pounds of apples, like you requested."

The woman lifted the bag up and down, as if weighing it. Then her face grew sour and said, "This isn't two pounds...!"

"Are you sure?" the boy asked, fakeing suprise.

"I have been delivering childern for almost 35 years," she said, "so I think I would know what 2 pounds would feel like!"

"Your right... I had to sacrifice one in order to help someone out of a pinch today..."

"Oh really? Who would that be?" The boy then looked over at Olivia, who suddenly felt really awkward. "Oh! Well hello there, child! You look pale as death!" She then turned back to the boy and asked, "Is she alright?"

"She had a run in with a dangerous character and I helped her," he explained casually.

"Oh, how sweet of you! So deary," she said, turning back to Olivia, "Where is it you live?"

"That's what I brought her here for," the boy contined, "She has no where to go, and it wouldn't be right to leave her on the streets again, what with what just happened to her and the snow and whatnot... So, do you think you could let her stay with you for a while...? You always did help me out when I was in need..."

The old woman nodded, "I don't see a problem with it... Well dear, I'm Mrs. Jenkins, and you are...?"

"Oh, I'm Olivia..."

"Olivia... What a pretty name..." she said with a smile. "Well, if you don't mind I must be getting back inside- it's hard to bake an apple pie with no apples. Please, come right in and make yourself at home, deary... Oh! And here's your reward for fetching me those apples..." She said, reaching into her apron pockets and pulling out a peice of paper and handing to the boy. "It's my famous apple pie recipe... Use it well..."

"Yes ma'am... I will..." the boy said, his face aglow with happiness.

"Well, come inside, child! It's freezing out here!"

"Oh, yes ma'am..." Olivia said as she slowly followed Mrs. Jenkins inside. Before she passed the threshold she turned to the boy who was still on the front steps, snow lightly frosting his dark hair. "Thank you again..." she said, smiling shyly.

"Not at all," he said with another warm smile. "You take care now, alright? Don't go down anymore strange allies... G'night!" He said as he turned and started down the street.

"Uh... Wait!" Olivia called after him. He then turned and smiled at her. "Yes?"

"I never asked you..." Olivia said, "What is your name?"

He gave her another smile and she could feel her heart skip a beat. "My name?" He called to her, starting to walk backwards so he could still face her, "It's Toby."


	6. Chapter 6

Chatper 6

"Now dearie, sit down and tell me about yourself," Mrs. Jenkin's said as she led Olivia to a seat at her small dining table, "what brings you to London?"

"I... I just always wanted to come here..." Olivia said, trying not to sound ridiculous for not having a reason for her visit to London.

"...Is that all...?"

"I.... I'm honestly not sure..." Olivia said, as she stared out into space, "For some reason, I just always wanted to come to London. Never anywhere else, either. I guess it is pretty odd..."

Mrs. Jenkins smiled knowingly at her. "You know, your mother didn't even want to come to London to have you- it's no suprise that she would frown upon ever letting her darling daughter come to London... Am I right?"

"Yes! She never did want me to-- wait, you know my mother?!" Olivia asked, shocked.

"Of course. You see, I'm a midwife, dear. I have been delivering babies since I was fifteen- my mother taught me and her mother taught her and so on. So I have seen many women and their newborn children in my day... And I've never forgetten one..."

"But I was just a baby! A newborn! I mean, I could have grown up any number of ways, so how do you recognize me?"

Mrs. Jenkins looked at Olivia as if she wanted to answer, but couldn't. "It doesn't matter, child..." She said, rising from her seat across the table from Olivia. She moved over to her fireplace where a large pot of something was cooking. As she stirred her concoction, Olivia took a look around Mrs. Jenkin's home. She saw herbs of all kinds hanging from the walls drying out, as well as bundles of burnt herbs lying around. Also there was a large broom that looked like a witch's broom. _Wait a second..._ Olivia thought as she looked around. There were various candles all over her house; she spied a small clear ball resting on her mantle, and as Mrs. Jenkin's moved away from her fireplace, Olivia saw the light of the fire highlight a pentagram on the side of the pot.

"Oh God!" Olivia shouted, jumping up from the table, "Your a- a- a--!"

"Yes, dearest, I am..." Mrs. Jenkins said almost sadly. "Does that trouble you?"

"Yes! Your going to eat me, aren't you?! Just like in Hansel and Gretel!"

Mrs. Jenkins smiled at Olivia, a bemused smile playing on her weathered face, "Child, do you see any meat hanging from any corner of my home? Do you smell any lingering scent of cooked meat?"

Olivia looked around and sniffed; sure enough, there were no traces of meat she could see or smell.

"I don't like meat, child. Just doesn't taste good to me. I much prefer vegatables- things the good Earth gave us..."

"So your not going to eat me...?" Olivia asked, still scared, "But you'll turn me into a toad! I know it!"

Mrs. Jenkins laughed at Olivia's foolishness. "Olivia- where do you come up with these thoughts of yours?"

"I've read all about witches in books- I know all about them!"

"Do you...?" Mrs. Jenkins asked, feigning interest.

"Yes, I do! And I know all about giants, ogres, and dragons, too!" Olivia boasted.

"Well, then you must know about ghosts as well, right?"

"Yes!"

"Then you must have known about the one that's been watching you for the past twelve years, right?"

Olivia felt her blood run cold for a moment. "...What?"

"Yes Child, he's been watching you for some time. In fact, he's with you right now..."

Olivia slowly looked behind her, expecting to see an aparition of some sort. When she saw nothing she turned back to glare at Mrs. Jenkins. "There's nothing there!"

"Well of course _you_ can't see him- I can, however... Not clearly, but I can make out his color."

"His color?" Olivia asked, forgetting her fear and becoming curious as to what the old woman had to say.

"Yes, Child- his color. Everything on this green Earth of ours has a spirit, and each spirit has a color. They show how you're feeling, as well as what kind of person you are. And I just so happen to be able to see them."

"Wha...What's mine...?" Olivia asked sheepishly.

Mrs. Jenkin's looked at her for a second and said, "Your color is a beautiful lilac color- your a sweet, smart girl; you love yourself, and your family. However, you have little pink sparks dancin' around you- that means your nervous. Probably because you have no where to go and your in the company of a witch- am I right?"

Olivia just nodded, feeling embarrased.

"You also have little yellow sparks, too. And that tells me your curious as to what I'm saying and what I know."

Olivia's eyes widened at the old woman's statement, "Yes! But how did you--"

"I already told you, I can see it. Now, on to your ghost," Mrs. Jenkins continued, "He's got a red color to him, means he's strong willed- willing to make risks for what he believes to be right. But he has grey sparks flying... Means he's upset about something..."

"What do you think he's upset over?" Olivia asked, becoming more and more interested by the second.

"That I can't say... And I can't make out his features, either... He's shrowded in black... I can't say he makes me compleatly comfortable, but he seems to be watchin' over you. As long as he's around, you'll be fine. But other people would probably benifit from knowing he's there..."

"Why can't I just tell them he's there? Or you tell them?"

"Because I don't want to be thrown in jail or burned," Mrs. Jenkins answered matter of factly. "There's been a long standing law put out for any practitioners of witchcraft- they've slowed down on burning and torturing those who are accused, but they do still throw people like me in jail until they die."

"But why...?" Olivia asked.

Mrs. Jenkins chuckled, "Probably because they think we'll turn people into toads and eat them."

Olivia looked at her feet, embarrassed and ashamed. It was so rude of her to assume all of that about witches- but how could she have known if her information was correct or not? She had never actually met a real witch until just now.

"Olivia... I believe you came to London for a reason. Ever since you were born I knew you were special somehow, and I'm still not sure how you'll be able to live up to that; but I think that your journey to discovering who you are begins here, in London."

"You do?" Olivia asked, confused.

"Yes. Every person has a destiny they need to fulfill. And I can tell from looking at you and talking to you there is no future back in your old home town with your parents... Everything happens for a reason- you wanting to come to London more than anything in the world; avenues opening for your passage here; ending up on my doorstep after twelve years- I think even your ghost has something to do with your future. I believe fate _wanted_ you to come her, Olivia... And if you trust me not to eat you or hex you, I would like you to stay here with me, and I would like to teach you about yourself, your gifts, and teach you my ways."

"You mean I'm going to be a witch?"

"Only if you want to be, dearie."

"Do you think you could tell me more about this ghost that's with me? And maybe how I can work with him?"

"I may be able to help you with that, though I've never done it myself."

_What's the worst that could happen?_ Olivia thought.

_Stay and learn, Olivia. _The voice in her mind said, _We could be quite the team, you and I..._

Olivia nodded. "Alright," she said, "I'll become your student."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Days turned into months. Months turned into years. Anthony and Johanna had done everything they possibly could to find their run away daughter. They both traveled to London three weeks after Olivia ran away, even though Johanna begged to stay once to twice, but decided braving the trip would be worth it if they found her.

They talked to the constables of London, though they were all very spread out. They hired a street sketch artist to make five copies of Olivia's face which they hung around five major places in London, hoping that the number of people flowing through those streets would be enough to get some answers. And for the first year or two, Anthony would take time to ride to London and just slowly comb the streets for his daughter. After a while however, hope began to die. They both started to come to terms with the fact they would never see their daughter again- that she was in a better place now. Afterall, there is no way a twelve year old girl could survive without somewhere to go for that long... However, that's when the dreams started.

Everynight when Johanna would start to drift into sleep, she would see a girl who looked like an older version of Olivia standing in moonlight, with a lovely smile on her face. But slowly the smile would melt away into a blank stare; and as her smile melted, the gold color of her hair seemed to fade into a deep black, like a midnight shadow. And then she would fall, and just lie there, motionless while a red-colored figure would stand over her.

At first these dreams frightened Johanna, and they would reoccure once every month. Eventually however, she began to realize that it was probably just her paranoia as a mother who just lost her only daughter. The pain that came with these visions hurt badly at first, much like someone was stabbing her in the chest. But eventually they became more of a sore bruise; a bruise which she never told her husband about.

In London, Mrs. Jenkins began to teach Olivia the ways of the Earth; how to heal, how to protect, how to project one's will into matter, how to remain balanced in all areas of life, and how to live with her new knowledge. She also trained Olivia to see the "colors" of all living things, as well as the colors of spirits. Though it wasn't Olivia's strongest subject, she was able to barely make out slivers of color around objects. She also grew more accustomed to talking with the ghost that guarded her. Although he would never tell her his name or who he was, or why he guarded her; he did assure her that he was a friend, and meant her no harm; which she did believe- after all, he could take over her body at will. If he wanted to harm her in any way, he could have done so by now. Olivia grew into a fine young lady, and as she aged, Mrs. Jenkins did as well. And as she aged, her health slowly started to deteriorate; she had almost lost a battle with pnumonia two winters earlier- and thanks to Olivia's training with herbal medicine she was able to pull through, though she never regained her previous vigor and strength. And with her health and age, she became unable to deliver babies. Olivia, who had taken it upon herself to be Mrs. Jenkin's personal nurse, also too it upon herself to find some source of income to support both herself and the elderly Mrs. Jenkins. Unfortunately, she still wasn't trained enough to be a midwife herself and there were no really well paying, steady jobs for women; only for men.

"Olivia... I'm not sure this will work..." Mrs. Jenkins said as she helped wrap a long cloth band around Olvia's chest, waist and hips. "But it's the only way we'll have steady money coming in," Olivia said as she spun around, making it easier for Mrs. Jenkins to bind her.

"All I'm saying is I'm not so sure you'll pass for a man, Olivia..."

Olivia stopped spining for a moment and smiled at her teacher. "Luckally nature was kind to me by not fully endowing me. So unless I have to work topless, I should be just fine."

"But what of your hair, Olivia? It's so long... And your friend doesn't like it cut..."

It was true- her hair had gotten quite long over the five years she had stayed with Mrs. Jenkins. Everytime they had tried to cut it, it had grown back the night before. It had scared Mrs. Jenkins and Olivia terribly- but whoever-it-was who was watching over Olivia told her he made it grow back, and that he prefered her to have long, yellow hair. "Not to worry, Mrs. Jenkins-" Olivia said, "I found a cap that compeatly conceals my hair as long as I pull it up correctly... This plan is perfect, and there's no way it will fail..."

Later, Olivia set out with a pale of water, soap, and rags in her back pockets. She had come to discover that window washing was a very necessary thing for many shops in London, and only the really popular ones insisted they have their windows cleaned regularly- so there was always money. And she didn't even mind the work- even when it got hot she got to work with cool water; where was the down side? Also, there was always a personal satisfaction she felt whenever she cleaned a window. She had a personal philosophy that the eyes were the windows to the soul- and so, since shops and places of business where the heart and soul of the business owners, the windows where like their eyes. If no one could see into what lay beyond someone's windows, it usually pushed away good business, much as it pushes someone away if your eyes aren't clear and easy to read. So, Olivia always found it satisfying when she cleaned windows from shops- it was like she could cleanse and clear out some of the uncertainty patrons would feel from not being able to see beyond the glass. Clarification was always something she loved above all else- when things made sense and were easy to read, she felt at peace.

She set out on the streets of London, looking for dirty windows, and willing shop owners. After cleaning two shop's window fronts, she found an open bench on a street corner and took a small break. As she gazed around at the people busteling by, she still was amazed that she lived in London- dispite some of the nastier qualities of the city, it really was a beautiful place to be. She watched as a few well dressed women walked by. They wore beautiful dresses that both seemed to glitter in the sunshine. They also had bussles and wonderful trains. _Absolutely wonderful..._ Olivia thought, smiling to herself, _It would be absolutely wonderful to have a dress like that... _

_Olivia..._ The strange voice called out inside her mind. She sat up, trying to hear it- it was very faint today.

_Yes?_ She thought in reply.

_Olivia, look across the street. There, to your right- do you see that building?_

Olivia looked to her right. Across the way from where she watched the two women pass was a fairly normal looking building. The front was composed mainly of windows; all of which were horribly dirty. Above the lower windows were chipping letters that must have at one time proudly proclaimed the name of the establishment. Now they were so faded and chipped it was almost impossible to read. Above the name of the building, was the roof; and on the roof was a large panel of more windows- she guessed there must be a loft up there, as there were also stairs leading up the side of building. She gazed at the windows on the roof- there weren't many buildings in London with a set up like that. In fact, she couldn't really think of any she had ever seen that had a panel of windows on a roof. "Wow...!" She said under her breath. "I bet you could see most of London from there..."

She then saw the front doors of the building open, and out walked a young man with a bucket in one hand, and a ladder under his other arm. He made his way over to the front windows and climbed the ladder with the bucket. From the bucket he pulled out a paint brush and began painting something over the chipping paint.

_Olivia, go offer your services to this man... Those windows are _very_ dirty, are they not...?_

"Yeah, your right..." Olivia said quietly. She stood with her own bucket and made her way over to the dirty shop. As she made her way over, she thought she saw something flickering under the ladder. And the closer she got, she realized that there was a fire right under the ladder, and the man wasn't even aware of it! "Oh my-- Sir!" She shouted out, dashing over to the ladder, her bucket at the ready. But just as she was about to throw the water, the fire faded. There wasn't even a scorch mark from where it had burned just seconds before. "Can I help you...?" The man's voice asked, somewhat annoyed by her display of un-needed and unidentifiable bravery. She looked up at him, her eyes as wide and confused as a doe's eyes, but he just painted on, not even bothering to look down. "I... I'm sorry, I... thought I saw a fire..." She said quietly. She then cleared her throat and took advantage of where she stood and continued on her quest for work. "Excuse me, Sir," Olivia called up the painting man, trying to conceal her voice by making it sound deeper than it actually was, "I noticed your windows are quite grubby- if you wouldn't mind, I'll wash them all, even the upper ones for one pound; what do you say?"

The man never looked down at her, but rather kept painting as he replyed, "Well... Business must be quite tight if you want to help out a shop on Fleet Street..."

"Excuse me, sir?" Olivia asked, a little confused as to what he meant.

"And you'd have to be _very_ pressed for money if you want to help _this_ spot..."

"What's wrong with this place? It has a good little feel to it," Olivia pressed. Actually, it was odd but she did feel a bit compelled by this building; like she was meant to be at _this_ building. Finally the man looked down at her with a serious expression on his handsome, almost angelic face. "Don't you feel the least bit apprehensive about this building? I mean, aren't you aware of this place...?"

Olivia slowly gazed at the building, noticing more about it now that she was beside it than she had when she was farther away. The outside of it seemed very old and weathered, like no one had been to this location for who knew how long. The stairs on the side looked very rickety and unstable, not to mention the wood was grey and splintering. The shingles on the roof were all coming off. It looked like it hadn't been used for years.

"I... I don't know what this place is, sir... I'm sorry to disappoint you..." she said, trying hard to keep her voice as boyish as possible.

"Huh," the man said, putting his brush in the bucket, "I thought everyone in all of Europe would have heard of Mrs. Lovette's Pie Shop by now..."

"Like I said, I'm not aware of it..." Olivia said again. "Now sir, if your trying to re-open this shop, I will cut you quite the deal on the window washing. I am quite skilled with glass you see, and I-"

"I would appreciate the help, but not while your wearing that ridiculous outfit... Attractive women should dress as women, not as men..." he said as he made his way down the ladder to stand before her. Olivia felt her jaw drop at his statement, but she quickly recovered her compossure and looked at him in the eye as she spoke. "I assure you sir, I am no woman! Women can't clean windows like men can! Like _I_ can!"

He moved toward her and she backed up slightly. "You know, _I _used to have to wear disguises... It's the worst form of conning there is- not to mention compleatly obvious on most accounts..." he continued as he moved closer. Before she could move far enough away from him however, he caught her chin with one finger and she froze in place. He lifted her chin until her gaze met his. "Now, you honestly don't expect me to forget such beautiful, velvety grey eyes, do you?" He smiled at her and she felt her heart skip a few beats. "I'm suprised you didn't recognize _me._ Though, it has been a while since we've seen one another, right?"

Suddenly it dawned on Olivia whose dark eyes she was staring into. "T-Toby?!" She asked, feeling her pulse race. He just smiled and chuckled. "Well, you did grow up to be quite the young lady, didn't you...?"

"Th-thank you..." She stammered. _Olivia!_ The voice in her mind cried out, _Don't forget- you need this job! Don't go soft- get the job! _

"Alright, fine," she grumbled under her breath. "What was that?" Toby asked, slightly confused by her odd behavior. "Oh, it's nothing," she said nonchalantly, "But honestly Toby, I do need a job... It's to help out Mrs. Jenkins, you see..."

Toby nodded, "Yes... She is getting older, isn't she...? How old is she now...?"

"She turned 78 on Wednesday," Olivia answered. "I see... I don't imagine she's a midwife anymore... What with her fight with that sickness and all..."

"How did you know about that..?" Olivia asked, amazed that he was aware of her illness when she hadn't even seen him since the day she met him.

"Oh, I have my ways... Well," he said finally, "I do need help re-opening this place, and you need money, so let's you and I be partners. I'll be your boss while I'm rebuilding, and once it's opened, I'll let you work here still. That way you don't have to go out and find other work."

"Toby that would be amazing!" Olivia said, feeling like she wanted to jump around like a rabbit. "Thank you so much!"

"I'm doing this for Mrs. Jenkins," he said simply. "If I had my way I wouldn't even be considering hireing you for remodeling- a girl like yourself should be parading around town like those two ladies there," he said as he pointed to the two ladies in the fancy dresses who had stopped in a neighboring shop. "Now, be here tomorrow- we have some work to do."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"...So, he offered me a job helping him in his shop, Mrs. Jenkins! Isn't that great?" Olivia chattered happily as she stirred the soup that cooked over the fire.

"Toby was always quite the hard worker... And he looks out for those he cares for..." Mrs. Jenkins replied from her rocking chair across the room. "How so?" Olivia asked, interested in the subject of her mysterious new employer and former savior.

"That boy never had a stable home... Was an orphan when he was a young child..." Mrs. Jenkins explained as she rocked back and forth, remembering details about him. "Then he came to be in a group home- horrible place... Had all of those children working terrible jobs for horrid people, all to make an extra penny. Toby came under employment from some Italian man who was a barber... No idea what ever happened to him though- he just up and dissappeared one day. Then that's when he met Mrs. Lovette..."

"That the name he mentioned... She must have been the owner of that building he's refurbishing..." Olivia said, coming over to sit in front of her friend. "Yes... She owned that building at one point. She made the worst pies in London- I know, I had a couple of her harvest pies; foulest thing I ever ate. But she was a kind enough woman- odd, but kind. He met her the day his Italian master disappeared, and started to stay with her. He even worked for her when her business got better."

"But I thought you said her pies were disgusting...?" Olivia asked, getting a little confused.

"Oh, believe me child, they were. But there was a breif period where they were very popular- everyone, save for myself of course, went to Mrs. Lovette's to try her meat pies..."

"But if she was so popular, why is her shop so weathered and empty today?"

Mrs. Jenkins grew silent, and just stared into her memory. Shadows appeared on her face from where her brows knitted at the memory. "It doesn't matter right now..." She said finally, "You'll be working there soon enough- and I know you'll learn all about the history of that place..." Slowly, she started to rise from her chair. Olivia jumped up to help her stand steadily on her feet. "Thank you, child..." She said kindly. "Now, come with me... I have something for you..." Olivia followed Mrs. Jenkins obediently to the corner of the kitchen area where she kept all of her magickal herbs, tools, and her family's book of spells. She opened the cabinet that held all of their magickal items and pulled out the large leather bound book that had been passed down in her family for at least seven generations, and a dark handled, double bladed knife.

"Olivia, you have been learning the ways of the craft for five years now... And you have shown amazing growth in the old ways... You are a very good student, and an equally good witch," Mrs. Jenkins said, a huge, proud smile on her wrinkled face. Olivia couldn't help but feel proud that Mrs. Jenkins saw her in such a good light. She smiled at her mentor, unsure of what to say to her compliments.

"You were initiated as a witch last winter... And I know you will lead a very blessed life if you follow your heart, no matter where it may take you- your powers and prowess are the strongest I have yet seen- you remind me of myself when I was your age, actually... But enough of this idel chit chat- you'll get a big head if I keep paying you praises!" She said with a laugh. "As a late initiation gift, and a token of my love for you as a student, friend, and serogate child, I want you to have these..." She then hefted the large book into Olivia's arms, and pressed the handle of the knife into one of her hands.

Olivia looked at Mrs. Jenkin's with shock. "Mrs. Jenkins... I can't take this... These are your two greatest treasures! Your great grandmother's athame and your family's Book of Shadows! I... I can't accept this...!"

"Olivia, I don't want to hear another word of it; I've made up my mind," Mrs. Jenkins said shortly. "You are a new witch! You'll have much more of a use for them than I will. And don't even think about trying to give them back, or I _will_ turn you into a frog," Mrs. Jenkins said as she made her way past Olivia and to her room. All Olivia could do was smile and clutch her master's treasures; no, _her_ treasures to her chest. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Jenkins..."

The old woman stopped on her way to her room and smiled at her protege, another proud smile glowing on her face, "No... Thank _you,_ Olivia... Blessed be..."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The sun was just peaking out of the horizon and from behind the buildings and structures of London. Olivia set out to go help Toby for a full day's worth of work. She was once again dressed as a boy, which she knew was going to be to Toby's displeasure. She arrived at the old pie shop to find him once again painting the name of the shop above the windows. But instead of the plain-colored base paint he had used before, he had with him a golden embossing paint, so the letters would shine and show up. Now "Mrs. Lovette's Pie Shop" was clear and legible- even in the pale light of the new sunrise.

"Your not going to change the name?" Olivia asked Toby as she approached him. Toby looked down and smiled when he saw her. "No... Mrs. Lovette was a good woman, her name still deserves to be on the front of this building. And didn't I tell you you shouldn't dress like a boy anymore...?"

"You did," Olivia said, setting her bucket down at the base of the ladder, "but it's hard to do manuel labor when you're sporting a skirt."

"Ah, touche," Toby said with a playful grin. "Now, on to business. We're not going to worry about the re-shingeling, I've hired another man to do that for us. What we're going to do is focus on that little strech of ground over there next to those stairs- I want some seats out there for a French cafe type of thing; and then the inside of the main room. You think that's a good idea?"

"Yes! And I'll do windows as well," Olivia said, gesturing to her bucket of soapy water.

"Of course, of course," Toby said absentmindedly, looking over the building as if he forgot some big peice of something that needed repairing.

"So, Toby, do you think these stairs are stable enough for me to get up to that loft?" Olivia asked him. As soon as she uttered her sentance however, he turned to her, a scowl on his face. "Those stairs can rot for all I care- we're _not_ going up there," He said, a snarl in his tone. Olivia was taken aback by his sudden display of... well, she wasn't sure _what_ he was displaying- he had been so friendly and calm a second before! "But Toby, those great windows need to be cleaned, don't they...?"

"Forget them- we're not going up there," he said again, resigned to his decision.

"Alright... Not a problem..." Olivia said, suddenly afraid of Toby's reaction to her mentioning on the loft.

"Now, let's you and I go inside and see what should be done, alright?" He said, slowly regaining his normal tone of voice. Olivia slowly followed him into the main room of the building. What was it about the loft that made Toby so angry? And just what happened up there that could make him have such a violent displeasure with it?

The work day was long and hard- the strech of ground Toby wanted to hold the outdoor dining seats was full of dead leaves, garbage, bottles, and old cigar stubs- it took at least three hours to compleatly clear it out. Once inside, Olivia was amazed that the main room didn't have a musty smell at all. "This building hasn't been used in _how_ long...?" Olivia asked him as she gazed around at the dusty, cobweb adorned room. "Far too long," Toby answered as he dusted some dust off of the only counter that lay in the center of the room, right in front of a fireplace and some small ovens. The place was simple and nice enough, but something inside of Olivia felt a bit different about the place; she felt as if she had been there before, but didn't remember it.

"So Olivia, before we get started, would you mind going down that hallway there," Toby said, pointing to a dark little walkway that led to som unknown place, "there's a closet there with some brooms and other things we may need to start cleaning in here. Would you go fetch them for me, please?" Olivia nodded, and made her way down the hallway. It wasn't as dark as she first imagined it to be, and she soon found the closet, and reached for the door knob. As she did, she saw a flash of light out of the corner of her eye that made her gasp. She looked farther down the hall and saw a flame, as big as a person glowing faintly. _The fire again! I wonder what it is...?_ She thought, starting to feel her heart beating faster with excitement.

_Well, well, well... if it isn't back again..._ The voice in her head said with a laugh in it's tone. _Olivia, let's find out just what this fire is..._

_No! _Olivia thought back, _I don't like the look of it... I'm going to get Toby.._

_Don't you dare!_ The voice growled, _We don't need _him_ to help us. God knows he's done enough in the past..._

Olivia's eyebrows knotted, _What do you mean...? _

_Never you mind,_ the voice said. _Olivia, I've protected you in the past, haven't I? I swear I will not let anything harm you- just follow the fire. _

_But I _can't! Olivia protested, _I just... I feel like I shouldn't get any closer to it! _

_Then let me..._ The voice said. Suddenly, Olivia felt her body grow stiff again, just like that night she met up with that street urchin in the alleyway. Her body glided forward, confident and strong, to the fire. As she drew closer, the fire slowly started to move farther down the hallway, and soon it turned and started to go _down_. The fire didn't cast any light on the walls oddly enough, so Olivia and whoever was controlling her, were following this fire blindly. The light from the main room no longer reached them, and they were plunged into darkness.

_I can't see anything..._ Olivia thought as her body pressed on, _We should turn back..._ Her body stopped momentarily, and she felt a grin grow on her lips. "Come now, Olivia..." the dark voice said aloud, "Your not afraid of the dark, are you...?" Just as the voice finished speaking, it took a step and started to move downward.

_Stairs! There are _stairs_ here?! _Olivia thought, _How did you know? Could you see?_

_No..._ The voice replied in thought, _I couldn't see- but I've been down these steps many times... _Suddenly, Olivia's feet landed on solid ground. _The space here feels small... It's a dead end,_ Olivia thought.

"Not quite..." The voice said. Olivia couldn't see it, but she felt her hand reach out, and then her fingers curled around a large, cold metal... _something._ The one controlling her was gathering strength as if to pull, or turn it, and suddenly, a firm hand clasped the upper part of Olivia's arm and pulled her forcefully backwards. "What the hell do you think your doing?!" An angry voice called out in the darkness somewhere near her. Olivia's conscious shifted as her guardian dropped his control over her. Once he did, she felt her knees buckle, and she fell onto the stairs the angry force that had grabbed her was pulling her up, landing on her behind. "Ooh..." Olivia moaned, holding her head with her free hand. For whatever reason, she suddenly felt very dizzy in this area. "Get up, Olivia!" The angry voice growled, "Get _up!_" "I... I don't think I can... I can't move..." she mummbled. "Oh for the love a'...." The voice grumbled. Suddenly, she felt arms scoop her up and carry her back into the light, which peirced her eyes and made her gasp in pain.

"What did you think you were doing?!" The voice said angrily from above her.

"I... I was following the fire..." Olivia answered, covering her eyes from the light. "Can we please go somewhere that's not so bright...?" She mumbled pittifully. The person carriying her sighed and continued carriying her. Soon, he placed her on a very soft surface, and she slowly uncovered her eyes. Olivia could still hardly see since her eyes weren't adjusted to light, but she could tell that they were in a room that was full of old furniature, and she had been placed on a bed. The other furniature was lavish- the peices didn't really match, but they were fancy none the less. And the bed, which was an old, ratty cot, really stuck out like a sore thumb. "Where are we...?" Olivia said, still trying to focus on where she was.

"We're in my room," The voice answered. It still sounded frustrated, but a lot less angry now. The owner of the voice sat across from her. Slowly, she could see that it was Toby who was so angry with her. "Oh my..." Toby said, moving toward her again. He tilted her head back and looked into her irritated eyes. "Well, it looks like you got some dust in your eyes... I'll be right back..." He left the room for a moment, and then came back with a soaking wet cloth and set it over her eyes. "Lay back, Olivia. Keep your eyes closed, but not tightly- the water in the cloth will wash the dust out," he instructed. She was glad to oblige, and laid back on the bed with the cool, wet rag resting over her sore eyes.

"Now, like I asked," Toby contiuned, "What were you doing down there?"

"Like I told you," Olivia retorted, "I was following the fire."

"What _fire?_" Toby asked, his temper starting to flare again, "I didn't smell any smoke- I didn't feel any heat. Hell, I didn't even see a light!"

"I know... It wasn't an ordinary fire..." Olivia said, not caring that he was angry with her and possibly thinking she was out of her mind- she just wanted her eyes to stop hurting. "It isn't the first time I've seen it though..."

"Oh really?" Toby said sarcastically, "when have you seen it before?"

"Yesterday," Olivia answered simply.

"Yesterday?" Toby asked, slightly suprised by her answer.

"Yes- remember when I ran over to you with my bucket of water, ready to throw it at the ladder you were on?"

"Yes... I thought you here just a neighborhood kid trying to pull some kind of a stunt at first..." Toby said, thinking back to the day before.

"Well, I saw a fire burning at the bottom of your ladder, so I was going to put it out." Olivia sat up and took the rag off of her eyes and looked at Toby, dispite how much it hurt to. "Believe me, Toby- I would not have gone down that hallway if I hadn't seen something that needed to be identified." Toby grew silent and nodded as he let what she had just said sink it. "I believe you... But Olivia, promise me you will never go down there..."

"Toby, what is down there anyway...?" Olivia asked.

"That isn't important," Toby answered curtly. "It's just... Bad things have happened down there, and I don't want you any where near there... Please, promise me..."

"Alright..." Olivia said, sensing the sincerity and urgency in his plea, "I won't go down there. I promise."

Toby smiled at Olivia, glad that she had heeded him. "Now," he said, moving toward Olivia and replacing the cloth over her eyes and laying her back down, "I'm going to do some more work. You just let the dust get washed out of your eyes... I don't want you going blind." He and Olivia both laughed at his small joke. Olivia gladly did as she was told, and enjoyed the cold cloth on her eyes. She heard Toby's footsteps moving out of the room, and she suddenly had an idea. "Toby!" She called out. She heard his footsteps return, "Yes?" he answered.

"Would you like to have dinner with Mrs. Jenkins and I tonight...? I mean, if you want to, of course." She asked, feeling her pulse pick up pace as she asked. He was silent for a moment, and after what seemed like forever, he said, "Of course... I wouldn't mind seeing Mrs. Jenkins again... I'll walk with you when I'm done here."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

After what seemed like forever, the pain in Olivia's eyes started to lessen, and she was soon able to look at light without wincing. Once she could do that, she made her way from the furnished room to the main part of the building. There she found Toby repairing some of the tables and chairs that sat in some of the shop's street-side windows. "Well! Are you feeling better?" Toby asked her when he spied her. "Yes... I'm feeling much better- thank you." He smiled, "Not at all. Well, if you wouldn't mind cleaning some windows as your major task tonight, I would be forever be thankful for it. Then we can move onto cleaning off that counter there, as well as the ovens, and then sweeping the place. Are you sure you'll be fine with all of the flying dust...?"

"Yes, I should be," Olivia answered. "Well, alright then- let's get to work!" Olivia and Toby worked for the rest of the day. Once they were done they both stood back in the doorway to admire their work. The building was far from perfect, but it did look much, _much _better. "This place is almost inhabitable," Toby laughed. "Indeed," Olivia answered. "Well, let's be off now; it's getting late."

As they walked they watched the constables walking around lighting up the street lights. The sun hadn't completely set yet, but it was getting ever closer. The clouds that hung farther away from the setting sun were painted dark blue, much like that of the deep sea. The clouds that were closer, however, were a dark, golden orange, and the sky was like that of a tangerine- bright and radiant. And the sun itself cast a golden halo around the horizon, and shone directly ahead of where Olivia and Toby were walking. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Olivia asked Toby breathlessly. "What is?" He asked her.

"The sunset," Olivia answered. "The colors in the sky are absolutely beautiful. I don't think diVincci or Michelangelo could have painted something this beautiful. I guess this sight proves that Mother Nature is the greatest artist there is, don't you think?" She looked up at him expectantly for his reply, but he only nodded his head and looked out at the ever darkening sky. Olivia dropped her gaze at his face to his hands. "Oh my..." she said.

"What?" Toby said looking at her, slightly concerned. "Oh, I was just looking at your hands," she said, taking one in both of hers studying it. "They're quite big... And they look as if you do a lot of labor with them."

"Well, you would be right in that," Toby said, letting her look at his hand, "I've been working all of my life." Olivia turned his hand over and then slightly gasped when she saw his knuckles; just below them, there were long, large white scars that seemed to draw a line between where his fingers met his hand. "What happened? These are odd scars..."

Toby crunched his hand into a fist as he too stared at them. "I once was a barber's apprentice," he explained. "Though he was my master, I feared him- he was always beating me for one reason or another. And thanks to his temper and carelessness with a razor, I have these scars," he then moved his other hand beside the first to show yet another series of thick, white scars.

"That's horrible..." Olivia said, now holding both of his hands inspecting them. "I... I'm very sorry..."

"And why would that be?" Toby asked with a little laugh, "You weren't responsible for making them, were you?"

"Well... No..." Olivia said, feeling silly. He then gripped her hands in his own. She looked into his dark eyes, a little surprised by his grasp. "Then there's no need to apologize," he said simply. Olivia smiled and nodded, and then broke his grip by slowly pulling her hands away and continuing on the way to Mrs. Jenkins' home. "Honestly," Toby continued, sliding his hands into his pockets, "I'm surprised you didn't notice them the night we met- they basically glow in moonlight, you know."

"Well, I wasn't exactly in a frame of mind to be noticing things like scars on a teenage boy's hands..." Olivia said, trying to sound matter of factly.

"Teenage boy? How old do you think I am, Olivia?" Toby asked with a laugh.

"Well, you were around seventeen or eighteen when we met, weren't you?"

"No, not at all," Toby said with a little smile, "try again."

"Um... 16?"

"No- your getting colder."

"Nineteen?"

"Your getting warmer..."

"I give up!" She said, starting to get frustrated, "How old were you?!"

"Twenty-one, believe it or not..." Toby said smugly.

Olivia's jaw dropped in disbelief. "There's no way! No way at all!!"

"Yes there is a way, because I _was_. I've always been rather small, and I was given these beautiful boy-ish looks... I'm cursed," he said as he jokingly laid the back of his hand on his brow as if he were going to faint.

"Then that would make you... Twenty-six now!"

"Well, in a few months I will be twenty-six; at the moment I'm still twenty-five," he corrected her.

"I thought you were closer to my age..." Olivia said quietly, dropping her head to watch her feet as they walked. Toby looked down at her. She really had grown up to be quite the lady since that night five years ago. Now when he looked at her, there were no tear marks below her wide, frightened eyes; just clean, smooth alabaster skin- skin that most high society ladies would have considered committing murder for. And her eyes were now a clear, almost glowing gray; it was if she had silver velvet where her irises were supposed to be. And how they glittered when they were happy! They were absolutely beautiful- even if they were rimmed with red because they were still slightly irritated. "Is it a bad thing that I'm that much older than you...?" He asked gently. She looked up at him, and there they were- those silver jewels glistening with the light from the street lights. "Well, no.... Not really..." she answered carefully.

"Because if you think about it, I'm just 8 years older than you... I mean, to some people that's quite the stretch, but I think if I were say, twelve years older than you, that would be a bigger distance, don't you think?"

"Yes, your right," Olivia said as she smiled a little. Toby himself then smiled as well, feeling an odd wave of relief wash over him at the sight of her smile.

"Well, here we are," Olivia said. "Ah, so we are," Toby noted; he hadn't much paid attention to where they were going- rather he was too busy thinking of the color of Olivia's eyes.

"Ah, Toby! How are you, dear?" Mrs. Jenkins said from her rocking chair. Toby walked over to her and gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm doing quite well, ma'm. And you?"

"Oh, I've seen greener pastures, my boy," she said with a little laugh. "Mrs. Jenkins," Olivia said moving over to her friend's side looking a little worried, "are you feeling alright? You look a little tired..."

"I'm fine, child," she said, "I just started a soup was all... It did wear me out a bit, but I'm sure I'll be right as rain soon enough. It should be just about done, if you two want to help yourselves to it..."

"Are you sure we have enough, Mrs. Jenkins...? Maybe I should add some more ingredients.." Olivia said, moving toward the cupboards.

"No, I knew you two would be coming here together... Just had a hunch," she said with a wry smile. Olivia smiled warmly at Mrs. Jenkins. Even though she wasn't feeling well, she was still in good spirits- it really did make Olivia feel better to see her feeling well enough to smile again. In the five years she had spent with Mrs. Jenkins, she was convinced that no matter what ailed her, she would always keep a happy disposition. That is, until the winter she had caught pneumonia. She had only slept and coughed, slept and coughed. It was a wretched time. For a while, Olivia was afraid she would never see Mrs. Jenkins smile again; so she tried every herbal concoction she could remember or invent to help her friend. And finally, one day, she saw color in Mrs. Jenkins' cheeks- her healing had worked! And ever since that day, Mrs. Jenkins smiled as much as she had before; if not more.

"Would you like some soup then, Mrs. Jenkins?" Olivia asked, now reaching for a bowl.

"Oh no dear, I've already had some... You two eat up- I'm just going to sit here for a while..."

"Yes m'am..." Olivia said smiling. She then grabbed two bowls for Toby and herself, and served dinner.

"So Toby, how is your pie shop coming?" Mrs. Jenkins asked from her chair.

"Oh it's coming along well, thanks to Olivia's help and whatnot," he answered. "And thank you so much for all of your recipes- I think I'll be a success as soon as I open my doors; just like Mrs. Lovette would have wanted." Mrs. Jenkins smiled at him. "You know, my boy, I have no need for my recipes anymore... I've got them all memorized, and I do most of the cooking around here anyway- you can have them, if you like..."

"Oh, Mrs. Jenkins, I couldn't..." Toby said modestly.

"No, I insist," Mrs. Jenkins pressed, "Olivia is a horrible baker, anyway," she said with a cackle.

"I am not!" Olivia laughed, turning to fake a glare at Mrs. Jenkins. "Just because I messed up that blackberry pie..."

"This child, I swear!" Mrs. Jenkins continued, "I told her, 'go make a blackberry pie.' Simple enough task, I thought. The child turned the pie itself black! She scorched the whole thing all the way through!"

Toby choked on some soup. "How did you manage that?" He asked with a laugh.

"Well... I forgot Mrs. Jenkins keeps an hour glass in her room, so I never asked to borrow it. So to tell time, I just counted out the minutes by counting from 1 to sixty in my head and keeping count on my fingers. Eventually, I kept counting and counting until I put myself to sleep!"

"Your lucky you didn't burn the place down..." Toby said, stirring his soup.

"I know... Luckily I'm always protected," Olivia said with a smile.

"Protected how?" Toby asked curiously. Olivia's smile faded quickly- how could she explain that she was protected by a spirit? He would think she was mad! "Um... Never mind," Olivia said. "Oh," Toby replied, "alright then." He then just continued eating as if nothing had happened. _Good job, Olivia,_ she thought to herself, _You'll be lucky if he doesn't think your completely out of your mind after that comment..._

But he didn't- at least, not to Olivia's knowledge. He just continued telling stories and talking to Mrs. Jenkins about his hopes for the pie shop. And soon he and Olivia were engaged in conversation, discussing everything from politics, to books, to their favorite baked goods and so on. Then, they both heard Mrs. Jenkins sigh from her chair, and they turned to look at her.

"I see now that this friendship between you two will definitely be a blessed one..." Mrs. Jenkins said warmly. "May the Goddess and God smile on you both..."

Toby looked at Olivia, hoping she could explain what was being said, but she herself was still looking at Mrs. Jenkins. "Mrs. Jenkins...?" Toby asked, hoping to get an answer from her.

"I'm tired now," she said, shifting in her chair, "I think I'll just rest my eyes here for a bit... You two don't stay chatting for too long- you do have work in the morning, after all... Blessed be..." And then, she dozed off in her chair.

"Olivia," Toby whispered after waiting a few seconds, "What is that she was talking about...?" But instead of answering she just fidgeted for a while, not sure of what to say. "Um... It's just something she likes to say, is all..." Olivia finally said. She looked at Toby who now had a skeptical look on his face. "It's a long story," Olivia blurted out, "One day, I will tell you about it, but not now," she said, hoping he would forget in a few days time. He looked at her and just nodded. "Alright. Well, I must be leaving now- I'll see you tomorrow morning, yes?"

"Of course- I'll be ready to work, and hopefully I won't be blinded by any more dust," Olivia said trying to be funny. Again he just nodded and made his way to the door. As he opened it to let himself out, he gave her one last glance and said, "Goodnight, Olivia." Then he closed the door and left. Olivia let out a huge sigh of relief- for a second she was afraid she would have to expose her and Mrs. Jenkins secret. _Lucky that's over,_ she thought.

She then made her way over to Mrs. Jenkins to help her to bed. "Alright, my lady," she said, moving to the arm of her chair, "I'll help you to bed..." She tapped her teacher's hand trying to wake her up. "Common now, Mrs. Jenkins," she said as she gently shook her shoulder, and still the old woman didn't respond. "Mrs. Jenkins?" Olivia said, quickly getting to her knees to look at Mrs. Jenkins' face and to get a closer look at her chest to see her breathing. She waited thirty seconds, and still she saw no sign of movement. "Mrs. Jenkins," she said, standing quickly and shaking her a little harder. Still, nothing. "Mrs. Jenkins, wake up! Wake up!" She kept shaking her friend, afraid that the worst had happened. Her head just lolled to the side, showing that she was smiling, even after life had left her body. "Mrs. Jenkins!" Olivia shouted, feeling hot tears running down her face. She stepped back from her teacher's side, and raced out the door in search of someone who could help her.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The streets were now dark and there were hardly any people around. "Help! Someone please help me!" She cried out. She dashed past building after building, hoping someone would step out to aid her, but no one did. "Please! Someone please help me! Help!" She continued yelling as tears of sadness and fear ran down her cheeks.

"Olivia? Olivia!" Someone shouted out from behind her. She spun around to see Toby standing outside of a pub she had dashed by, a bottle in his hand. "Toby!" She cried as she ran to him. "Toby, please! I need help! I need a constable! Do you know where I can find one? Please, I need help right now! Please, I--!"

"Olivia, slow down," he said, dropping his drink to the sidewalk and putting his hands on her shoulders trying to steady her. His brows were knitted together as he looked at her, trying to see what was wrong besides the fact that she was hysterical. "Olivia, slow down, and tell me what is wrong," he instructed authoritivly.

"She's gone... She's dead!" Olivia said, still gasping for breath and crying at the same time.

"_Who_ is dead...?" Toby said, fearing what she was going to say next.

"Mrs. Jenkins!" Olivia said, crying heavier now, "she's--she's dead...!" Toby felt a lump grow in his own throat. He looked out at the deserted, dark streets, hoping he would see a constable who could help them properly. He kept scanning the streets, but still, no one came. "Toby?" Olivia said in a small, scared voice, "What am I going to do...?" Toby didn't answer, but just looked down at her, his brows still knitted. She couldn't go back to Mrs. Jenkins' home just yet- not after what just happened. And he couldn't take her in the pub... Or couldn't he? She was still in her work clothes, but her hat had been left behind so now her golden hair just hung freely. "One second," Toby said, letting go of her shoulders and dashing into the pub. Olivia watched as he reached in the doorway and lifted a hat off of a hatrack that sat in the doorway. "Put this on," he instructed. She shakily reached behind herself and grabbed her hair and began to twist it. "Let me help," Toby said hurriedly. He grabbed her hair and quickly twisted and spun it up on her head. He then placed the cap on top of her head and pulled it down snugly so none of her hair would show. "Common," he said, grabbing her hand and dragging her inside the pub. Olivia didn't even grip his hand in return- she just floated behind him, lost in her own thoughts. Toby looked back at her, only to see her tear-stained face void of all emotion and thought. He clenched his teeth and pressed on. Finally he made his way to a back table where a group of men were sitting together, laughing heartily. There was however, one man who was slumped over on the table unconscious. "Murphy!" Toby yelled out, "Officer Murphy! Get up! Get up, I need your help!" He then kicked the leg of the sleeping man.

The man shook with surprise at the kick, and slowly raised his head. "What in God's name...?!" He grumbled. His face was red and puffy, and he looked beyond drunk- he probably didn't even know where he was. "Get up!" Toby continued. "I need your help!"

"What could you possibly need?" The drunken officer mumbled. "Look, I'm not working- if you need help, take this... Tell 'em Murphy gave it to you," he then reached in his pocket and handed Toby a silver whistle. Toby snatched it and left, pulling Olivia with him. "Damn drunk..." he growled under his breath, "Probably doesn't even care what kind of trouble he'll be in for giving me his whistle..."

Once outside, he pulled Olivia in front of him and placed his hands firmly on her shoulders again. "Olivia. Olivia, look at me," he said, shaking her back into reality. She stared into his eyes, trying to focus, but she was still too much in shock to get her consciousness back fully. "Let's hurry back to Mrs. Jenkins' home-"

"But she's dead! She's dead!"

"I know! Let's go there - we won't go inside- and I'll use this whistle to get help, alright?" Olivia just nodded, still scared. "Alright, now let's hurry!" Toby said. He then took off running down the street toward Mrs. Jenkins' home, Olivia running close behind him. As soon as Toby got to Mrs. Jenkins's front door, he started blowing Officer Murphy's whistle, hoping a nearby constable would appear. Olivia just stood by his side, looking into the dark and wishing with all of her heart that someone would show up. Slowly, the sound of running feet could be heard drawing nearer. "They're coming!" Olivia said breathlessly to no one in particular. Toby just kept blowing until finally three out-of-breath officers were standing before them. "What in the world is goin' on 'ere?!" one of the officer's demanded.

"There's an old woman who has passed away in here," Toby said calmly, gesturing to Mrs. Jenkins' front door. "We need help getting her to the morgue." One of the officers looked at Toby suspiciously. "Where did you get that whistle...?"

"I got it from Officer Murphy. He's passed out in a pub just down the way," Toby said pointing down the street.

"And is this your home, sir?" Another officer asked him.

"No, it's mine..." Olivia said quietly, still quite shaken. The officers talked amongst themselves. Finally, one took off jogging back to where he had originally come. "He's going to get the coroner," One of the other officers explained. "Now, boy," they continued talking to Olivia, "Tell me, was this woman your grandmother?"

"She was my guardian," Olivia said. "And I'm not a boy..." She said, lifting the hat off of her head and letting her long hair pour down like a blonde waterfall.

"Why are you dressed like that, young lady?!" The other officer asked, sounding a little outraged.

"She was taking care of her guardian," Toby explained, jumping to Olivia's rescue. "She has been sick for a good while now, and this young lady had no other option but to go out and work. I hired her and told her to wear clothes like this because she's no use to me in a dress."

"And just who are you then?" The officer asked, getting rude.

"My name's Toby," he continued. The officer paused and looked at him for a second. Then his eyes grew once he recognized the young man standing before him.

"Your that kid who reported all of those murders a few years ago, ain't ya?"

Toby just looked blankly at the officer. "Yes sir," he answered solemnly, "I am."

"Well, good to see you grew into a good strong man," the officer said trying to make conversation. However, neither Toby or Olivia were in the mood to talk. "Well, Miss," the other officer said, turning his attention to her, "the coroner should be getting here soon. We'll be sure to take care of your guardian. Will you be burying her?"

Olivia just looked at the officer, hardly aware that she had started crying again. Suddenly, she felt an arm around her shoulder. "We will be," Toby's voice said. He started talking to the officer, but their voices grew quieter and quieter. Slowly, out of the shadow, Olivia spied a horse and a carriage drawing closer. The carriage was as black as the shadows with a black plume of feathers on the top that waved as the horse trotted on the cobblestone street. Olivia felt her knees growing weak, and she began to fall, but Toby's arms grabbed her before she could. "That's a good lad," she could almost hear one of the two officers say, "You take care of her and we'll handle the rest." She then felt her head being pressed to Toby's chest in an embrace. She normally would have been blushing like crazy, or trying to pull away, but none of that seemed to matter now. She just let him hold her. "It's alright, Olivia... It's alright..." She heard him murmur. She then started to shift back into consciousness. She could hear his heart beating. _Mrs. Jenkins' heart will never beat like this again..._ She thought randomly. Then, she broke down and began sobbing freely. Toby just stroked her hair and held her, as he watched the coroners carry a wooden coffin out of Mrs. Jenkins' home and into the back of the carriage.

One of the officers made his way over to Toby. "Sir, is this young lady related to this woman at all?"

"No officer, she's not..."

"Is she financially stable enough to handle living in this establishment?"

"I don't believe so, sir..." Toby said sadly as he continued to hold Olivia.

"Then unfortunately, I don't think she's going to be able to stay here any longer... This place is quite expensive, and I personally don't think it's right for a young lady such as her to be living here alone, not to mention working herself to death in order to maintain it..."

"She'll be staying with me," Toby said simply. "I have room in my home."

"And where is it you live, sir?"

"Over on Fleet Street," Toby answered. The officer just nodded. "Well, this home will be city property as of noon tomorrow, so if you need help bringing out her belongings, tell us now and we can help you escort her to your home."

"Olivia...?" Toby coaxed gently, "Olivia, is there anything you need from inside?"

She nodded. "I'll go get my things," she said distantly. She pulled away from Toby and made her way inside.

The house looked the same, but yet it wasn't. Everything that was once warm and inviting was now a cold, harsh reminder of what had just taken place. Olivia slowly walked into her little room and started to gather her belongings. She remembered that when she first came to Mrs. Jenkins's home her room had been a storage room for Mrs. Jenkins' old books and things. It had taken three days to make enough room for a bed to be made, let alone set it up in the room. In the mean time, Mrs. Jenkins had let Olivia sleep in her bed while she slept in her old rocking chair. For three days she had complained about how stiff she was, and how uncomfortable she had been, but never once did she get cross with Olivia- in fact, she always had a big smile on her face when Olivia would wake up refreshed from a good night's sleep. Then, once they had gotten enough room for a bed, they used an old table as the foundation, and Mrs. Jenkins had actually sown together all of the fabric she had in her home to make a patchwork mattress, which they stuffed with hay.

She bent under her bed and pulled out the book Mrs. Jenkins had given her, as well as her athame. She then took a couple of dresses out of her closet and wrapped her gifts with them. She looked around her room one last time, taking as much of it in as she could. _I'll get one of the officers to help me with my bed... I don't think I could carry it on my own..._ She thought to herself almost blankly. Then she went back out into the kitchen area, where she saw Toby rummaging through the cabinets, pulling out jars and putting them in a large wooden crate. Olivia stopped and watched him, not sure what he was doing.

He looked over to where Olivia stood and jumped a little. "Olivia! You surprised me!"

"What are you doing...?" Olivia asked quietly.

"Mrs. Jenkins always had the best herbs," he explained. "I don't think she would have wanted them to be thrown out after she died, so I'll be taking them home where they can be used as they should. Besides," he said, producing a small box, "she wanted me to take her recipes after all... I don't want to dishonor her last wish." With that, he set the box safely into the crate with the herbs.

"Where did you find the crate?"

"The coroner actually keeps some in his carriage for occasions such as this," Toby said. "And I already told the officers you would be needing your mattress, so they'll be bringing it over tomorrow morning. Unless... Well..."

Olivia just looked at him, confused. "Well, unless you would prefer some actual furniture to sleep on. I have a few sofas in my room you could use," he said, looking a little embarrassed by his suggestion. "But I thought we could still bring your mattress, just in case you want something of your own."

Olivia just nodded, not sure what to say, or really of what he just said. Toby looked at her, and tried to smile. "Alright, let's go..."

Toby unlocked the pie shop and held the door open for Olivia, despite the heavy crate full of jars he held. She made her way past him and just stood out of his way. He hurried past her before the crate could slip out of his hands, and set it with a slight thud on the now clean counter. "Alright... Um... I'll show you to your room," he said awkwardly. He made his way back into the room he had carried her to earlier that day. He bent over a small oil-burning lamp and lit it. "Uh... well, you can have my bed tonight, and I'll sleep on the sofa- I don't mind," he said, still sounding a bit awkward. Olivia just nodded and kicked off her shoes and sat on his bed. She still held her wad of dresses wrapped around Mrs. Jenkins' book and athame. She could feel the hard cover of the book through the cloth, and could also feel the now warming metal of the blade. She set the objects down beside her feet, and just sat there, staring into space. Suddenly, she felt someone sitting beside her. "You know, I know what it's like to lose someone," Toby said next to her. She looked up at him, even though he didn't look back at her. He was fidgeting with his hands, running his thumb over the scars on his opposite hand. "Mrs. Lovette, the woman who owned this shop before me, she was the closest thing I had to a mother growing up," he explained. "She was taken from me, and it really did hurt when she died... So I know what you must be feeling. Mrs. Jenkins was the only other person who was kind to me when I was growing up... She's was like my grandmother... She was a great woman."

Olivia nodded, not wanting to start crying again. "I do know, however," Toby continued, "that Mrs. Jenkins never really feared death- she always said that it wasn't anything to be sad about, even. She once told me that even after we leave our bodies, we aren't ever really gone... That we stay with those we love in one way or another. Never really knew what she meant by that, but it helped me with my loss... Maybe it'll help you with yours." With that, he stood and made his way over to the oil lamp and turned it off. Olivia laid down on the bed, but didn't bother to cover herself. She heard Toby lay down on the sofa since she couldn't see him. Within a few minutes, she heard his steady breathing, suggesting he was asleep. Soon, she felt herself beginning to doze off. Just as she was closing her eyes, she heard footsteps above her head. She shot straight up in bed, listening. There was definitely someone in the loft- the footsteps were almost deafening in the quiet of the Pie Shop. "Toby!" Olivia hissed, trying to stay quiet so the intruder wouldn't hear her. "Toby! There's someone up there! Toby!" He slept on, oblivious to the noise above.

_What should I do...?_ Olivia thought, hoping her guardian would have some advice. She waited for his answer, but it never came. _Fine... _ She thought, _If Toby won't wake up, and you won't answer me, I'll go see what's going on..._ She stood and slid her shoes on. She felt around on the floor for her bundle. She finally found it, and pulled the dresses off of the book and athame. Once she felt the cold metal blade, she lifted the knife and carried it with her. As she made her way out to the main area of the pie shop, the light from a neighboring street light shown through the windows, illuminating the room enough for her to see where she was going. She held the knife in her hand and drew a circle around herself with it three times. "Thrice around, the circle's bound," she whispered as she knelt and put the point of the athame to the ground, "evil sink into the ground." Suddenly, she felt as if she were completely protected by an invisible, impenetrable bubble. She took in a deep breath made her way out of the shop.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The moon was full, and hung in the sky like a huge silver ball, glowing and casting it's light on the people below. Luckily, the light was bright enough Olivia could see the stairs up to the loft quite clearly. She stayed close to the wall of the building, making sure not to rely on the rickety banister for support. She slowly and carefully made her way up to the loft. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she could feel her blood running cold in her veins. _Maybe this isn't such a good idea..._ Olivia thought, _I should go wake up Toby... I shouldn't do this alone..._ But still she moved on, her athame clutched in her right hand. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally reached the door. She tried peering inside, but she couldn't see anything- the windows were much too dirty. Suddenly, she saw a red light zip past her and through the door into the loft. Olivia gasped, not sure of what happened. She could then hear a groaning sound coming from beneath her feet. Soon the groaning was accompanied by snapping, splintering sounds, so she looked below her. The platform that connected the stairs to the upper door was breaking and was about to fall out from under her. Before she could think it through, she opened the door and jumped into the room before the floor that was holding her could collapse. Luckily, only two boards had broken completely through, while three others were seriously splintered. Had she not gotten off, she could have fallen to the ground past the splinters with the two jagged boards- And who knows what could have happened once she hit the ground.

She then heard movement in the room and was snapped back into reality and out of her thoughts. She looked to her left and saw a figure standing under the huge windows she had seen from the outside before. He was wearing dark clothing, and had dark hair, and dark circles around his eyes; which were also dark. His skin, however, was so pale it glowed in the moonlight that poured through the dust on the windows. He didn't even seem to notice she was there, rather, he kept fidgeting with something in his hands as he gazed out the window.

"Who are you?!" Olivia shouted, feeling more and more afraid with ever second that flew by. "Who are you and what are you doing here?!"

"I knew you would come here..." He said quietly, in a dark, smooth voice. Olivia felt her heart stop beating. His voice was so familiar... In fact he sounded just like...

"I said, who are you..." Olivia said growled, gripping her athame tighter. He turned to face her, and as he did, he flicked whatever it was he was fidgeting with earlier. A barber's razor seemed to appear with a quick silver flash. Olivia raised her athame in defense and began to back away toward the door.

The man just gave a wicked smirk. "No need to run off, Olivia... I've been wanting to lay eyes on you properly for years..."

Olivia started to tremble in fear as he moved closer. "Stay back!" She warned. He stopped dead in his tracks and didn't move any closer. "Don't worry. I can't," he said, folding his razor back up and slipping it in his pocket. "I can't come near you while you have your knife with you... Please, set it down. I just want to see you- I swear, I won't hurt you."

"How do you know my name?" Olivia asked, her voice shaking just as much as she was.

"Oh, I think you know, Olivia," he said. "Now, put down the knife-"

"How do I know can I trust you?" Olivia demanded.

"I haven't hurt you in the past seventeen years of your life, have I?" He asked, starting to sound a little irritated.

Olivia gasped- this _was_ her guardian! The closer she looked at him, she could indeed make out a slight red outline of color around him, just like Mrs. Jenkins taught her to. She stared at him, feeling almost completely spellbound by him. His eyes glistened oddly in the darkness- almost like they weren't natural. She then noticed a singular white shock of hair amidst the black of his hair.

"Olivia," He continued coaxing, "I have seen you grow from the time you were but an infant... Please, trust me..."

She looked at the athame in her hand, and back at the man who stood before her. For whatever reason, she felt unafraid of him- she felt that he was who he clamed to be, and she could believe him. Slowly, she set the athame on a small, dusty table that stood near her.

He smiled darkly as she set down her tool. "That's my girl..." he said. He then moved close to her, and lifted a lock of her straight golden hair. His hand slightly brushed her cheek and she gasped- it felt as if she had been touched by a winter breeze. He ignored her reaction and continued to play with her hair as he inspected her face, and gazed into her pale, gray eyes. "Very beautiful..." He said simply.

"What is your name...?" Olivia asked him, still enamored with the man standing before her, "I never knew your name..."

She cracked another wicked grin. "Sweeney.... Sweeney Todd... And I've been waiting for you for a long time..."

It was so dark Johanna could barely see her hand in front of her face, but ahead of her, there was pale light. She tried to move toward it, but her legs were heavy as lead and it was very difficult to make them respond. After what seemed like forever, she drew closer to the lighted area. There stood Olivia and _that_ man. Johanna wanted to scream to her daughter and tell her to get away from him, but no matter how she tried, nothing would come out of her mouth. All she could do was watch as he took a strand of her hair in his fingers. He saw Olivia jump slightly at his touch, and Johanna wanted to reach out and pull her daughter away from his grasp. She then heard her daughter's quiet, dreamy voice say, "What is your name...? I never knew your name..."

_Olivia! Olivia, get away! Olivia! _Olivia! Johanna's mind screamed.

"Sweeney... Sweeney Todd," she heard the man say with a treacherous smile, "And I've been waiting for you for a long time..."

"NO!" Johanna finally managed to croak out. Suddenly, the scene in front of her froze. Behind her, she heard a baby cry. She spun around to see Mrs. Jenkins, the midwife who had delivered Olivia, standing behind her with a baby in her arms, also looking at the scene before them. "Well, I never expected this..." She said, moving to stand beside Johanna. "I never thought that he would actually do this..."

"What?" Johanna asked, confused as to what was being said.

"He's gaining strength, Dearie," Mrs. Jenkins answered cryptically, "and I don't like what he's up to..."

"What's he doing with Olivia?!" Johanna yelled, suddenly aware that the dream-Jenkins knew something.

"He protected her for all of these years, and now he's going to use her to get what he wants," Mrs. Jenkins explained.

"But Olivia would never help someone like him! Never!" Johanna said, feeling confident.

"She would- with perfect love and perfect trust..."

"What does that mean?!" Johanna asked, getting more and more angry. "Why am I seeing this?!"

Mrs. Jenkins smiled at her. "I can't help her anymore- I've gone to the Summerland," she said, "But you have to help her. Your the only one who can. Otherwise..." She trailed off, looking at the baby in her arms. She pulled the blanket that wrapped it away from it's face to reveal it was a baby Olivia. Only she had ebony black hair, and bright red eyes. Johanna looked back to the older Olivia in front of her to see that 'Sweeney' had disappeared and Olivia was the only one there. Her hair flowed like a black river, here eyes glowed red, and her clothes were covered with blood.

"No..." Johanna gasped, covering her mouth, "No...! No!"

"No!!" She cried, sitting up in bed, sweat on her brow. "Johanna!" Anthony gasped, springing up beside his wife. "Not these dreams again!"

"Anthony... We have to go to London..." Johanna whispered, still breathing heavily.

"What?" He asked, surprised by his wife's statement.

"We need to find her... I think I know where she is... We need to go there!"

"Johanna, we've _been_ to London- many times," Anthony said, already knowing who his wife was talking about. "And we haven't found her. Not even a slight lead in five years. _Five years,_ Johanna... It's time to move on..." This had been a sore subject for many years now, and it never got easier to deal with, although Johanna's dreams had lessened after the first year. However, whatever she had seen tonight had really shaken her.

"Anthony..." Johanna said, still breathing hard, "What I saw tonight... The Midwife- Jenkins. She was in my dream. She said something about Olivia being used by _him_."

"Him?" Anthony asked, surprised, "You mean _Todd?!_ Johanna, he's been dead for years! You saw it yourself in the newspapers! It's one of the biggest scandals England has ever seen!"

"I know all that," Johanna said, getting irritated, "But we must go!"

"Johanna, enough-" Anthony said, losing his own patience, "no go back to bed..." With that, he laid back down and rolled over, his back to her.

She slowly laid down herself. She stared out of the bedroom window at the moon that seemed to hang just outside of it. There was a red hue over it. _Blood on the moon_, she called it. She felt a tear run down her cheek. She knew that what she had seen in her dream was real- it just had to be. _I'm coming Olivia... Even if it's alone, I'm coming..._ She thought as she fell asleep again.


End file.
